


Savages

by Nightingale_Blackbeak



Category: Maleficent (Disney Movies)
Genre: Dark fey, Everyone needs a break, F/M, Fae & Fairies, Fantasy, Gen, Magic, Mates, Movie: Maleficent: Mistress of Evil, Post-Movie: Maleficent: Mistress of Evil, The Moors, aggression everywhere, aggressive females, maybe smut, over protective males, wars not over, with a side of blood and gore
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-10-22
Updated: 2019-11-19
Packaged: 2020-12-28 05:10:09
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 5
Words: 38,238
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21131183
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Nightingale_Blackbeak/pseuds/Nightingale_Blackbeak
Summary: Severyn swore to herself that she wouldn't forget what the sun felt like. Or her wings cutting through the wind, whipping her braids back as she broke through the clouds.But a decade is a long time, even for an immortal.Darker things lurk beyond the Moors and Ulstead.





	1. The Phoenix

The air was still thick with smoke and dust from fallen debris, but Maleficent didn't pay heed to anything but the golden queen at her side. Aurora was still distracted by the crowd, both human and fey, and watched in awe and confusion as the fey stayed in their kneeled position to pay servitude to the new Phoenix risen from the ashes.

"I'll explain later." Maleficent murmured to her as she placed a slender hand on her shoulder. The golden queen merely nodded and seemed to sag with an exhale from both relief and exhaustion of the day's events. Maleficent hummed a little as she allowed her magic to sift over Aurora's cuts and scrapes, healing as it made its route of the woman's body. Aurora's azure eyes met Maleficent's own golden-green, a thankful smile playing on her lips. Maleficent returned the sentiment, and felt her soothing magic make a trail of her own body, and couldn't help the groan of satisfaction as a particularly deep cut was healed near the base of her wing. Aurora's smile turned into a huff of amusement and stretched her arms out, and was rewarded with the sound of a few cracked joints.

The humans seemed to have gathered near the Prince Phillip, and the men were nodding severely to whatever the young prince was saying. With a final word, they were off, and the sorceress watched as a few went to any nearby magical being or mortal to offer assistance while others began to make order of the fallen rubble laying in direct paths. Her eyes then slid back to her own kind, who were by this point standing and...looking at her still. Were they waiting for her to give orders as well? She'd only known of them but for a few days, and already they looked to her for guidance. She smirked, _phoenix indeed. _

"This is the start of a new age. The time for peace is upon us, as the queen has already stated. Let us offer our assistance as well, but those of us who are injured shall find rest where room can be spared. They are trying, and so will we." Really, she'd expected some form of resistance, but the warriors agreed readily, even the more aggressive of the group. She watched closely as they sheathed their weapons or tucked their wings into themselves and shuffled off in pairs, a few limping for the shaded areas of the cleared spaces by the castle walls.

Aurora leaned in close to murmur, "They look to you now. I'm grateful they have you, as I do," she glanced over Maleficent's shoulder, and seemed to perk up once her eyes settled on something in the distance, "I'm going to be with Phillip for now, but I'll come find you once I've cleaned up a bit and figured out where to go from here." With a gentle squeeze to her arm and a chaste but warm kiss to her cheek, she was off, all before Maleficent could respond. She stayed for a moment, watching the golden haired beauty walk with a bounce in her step to her betrothed, and wondering where the time has gone when she was just a tiny little beastie. Now she was a queen in her own right, soon to be queen of the human realm as well.

Maleficent was just about to begin her trek to the castle halls when a voice cleared from behind her. She wheeled around only to come face to face with Borra. The fey male stood tall, giving a slight bow of his horned head to her as he began to speak. "We have the queen. The old one, not the girl. She's tied up and currently watched by two of ours. Wanted to kill the bitch, but Zorra said you'd want her alive." He grimaced, as if the thought of Ingrith being alive another minute was painful to him. It might as well have been, she thought. Many of their kind had been killed today. No, not killed, but...simply cease to be.

Maleficent frowned. She knew the fey were mourning their fallen already, as was she, but she didn't know how to reverse what had been done to them. She would have to gain more insight on it when she was able, and she had to do it soon. "Thank you, Borra. I do indeed wish her alive, but for how long she will remain that way remains to be said. I need answers first." He gave a thoughtful blink, nodding slightly and looked away. She felt bad, she knew what it felt to be void of retribution for a crime so horrid. It was only just five years ago she received it, but not by the means she anticipated. She got Aurora in the end, a daughter of the heart.

She started walking slowly, and felt rather than heard the large male behind her lengthen his pace to match her strides. "I've been thinking," she began softly, "I cannot lead our people alone, as I do not even know the ways of our kind. Up until last week I thought I was alone in this world. I need help, and I ask you to continue to co-lead with me. If you wish, that is." She hurried the last part, worried he wouldn't want the role after Conall's death and her rise in status. Leading was a tiring business, but it had its upsides. Besides, he seemed to have done well before, and more importantly, the fey respected him. 

He gave a sharp smile, "I accept. The tribes are anxious to return home, but we know we're to help here first. Even if this shit storm wasn't our doing in the first place." He muttered the last part, but she heard it anyways with her fey hearing, and rolled her eyes. He wasn't wrong, but Borra was barely tolerable at the best of times, she'd garnered. Always a smart ass comment or scoff.

She absentmindedly noted as they traipsed closer to the castle how the human men and woman alike cowered as they passed by, eyes averted and hands shaking. The men in particular were stealing glances at the hulking male at her side, their palor little paler and breathing a little quicker. Yes, it would be some time before the humans came to terms with this new alliance and realized they weren't in danger from accidental eye contact. Well, Borra excluded. She'd just opened her mouth to hiss at him to stop puffing his chest out in some ridiculous display of male dominance when she heard her name called. Or rather, shouted.

"Mistress! Maleficent! Wait!" She knew that voice. She stopped and turned around to raise an expectant eyebrow at her longtime companion, but faltered at the panicked expression on Diaval's face. He was running towards her, eyes wide, but it wasn't just the look he was sporting that stopped whatever retort she'd had on her tongue, but also the short wingless pixie Aurora had called "Lickspittle" who was so desperately trying to match Diaval's long strides. She could hear the little creature's panting from here. 

Diaval came to a screeching halt in front of her and Borra, dust and pebbles flying from below his feet. "Mistress," he panted, hunched over with a forehead coated in a light sheen from his journey to her, "The pixie. He said something. I think you need to know...need to hear it from his mouth." Still hunched and dragging in lungfuls of air, he pointed an accusing finger at the little creature who'd finally caught up to the dark clad man. 

"I remember! Oh, I remember, it's awful, just awful. Please! I didn't do it, I just did what she told me, I did. Don't even remember not rememberin'." The pixie creature, who was indeed named Lickspittle, wouldn't stop wailing and pulling at his ears. Maleficent winced as the wailing only got louder, drawing attention from nearby fey and men. She glanced to Borra who, to his credit, looked as if he was trying to reign in whatever remark he obviously wanted to make, then to Diaval who, for all intents and purposes, looked as if he were about to strangle the pitiful creature. 

She drew in a breath, "If you do not stop this loud nonsense _immediately, _I will make sure you wished you had wings to fly far from _me_, do I make myself clear?" It was cruel, normally she would never make a comment about one's wings like just now, but it seemed to work, as it shut the pixie up. She trusted Diaval, and she knew he wouldn't have brought this dramatic pixie's display if it weren't at least important, so she would listen. She could feel Borra shift next to her.

Lickspittle sniffled, seemed to gather himself, and looked up into her awaiting gaze. He swallowed. "It isn't nonsense, Mistress. I...ohh I saw it! Queen Ingrith. She insisted she feed her herself! Her clothing, her bathing, her _torture, _and I _saw it!" _He took a breath, "It's the spindle, I know it is, soon as I saw it, I started rememberin'! She's dead, she's gotta be dead.." Her head snapped up at this, mind narrowing in on those few words. "Who's 'her'? Where?"

He looked up again, looked into her eyes so sadly she was sure he would start his bawling again, but thankfully he elaborated, "She's like you, Mistress. Wings, horns, and all. Have her, yes we have, for years. The queen held her captive, but it was a secret, you see. The king, he- oh he would have _never _allowed it! Yes, I remember. She keeps her in a room behind the spinning wheel. A cell, more like." 

A chill ran down her spine, and beside her Borra tensed so severely she thought he would strike at the little beast any moment. She swallowed, choosing her words carefully, "Can you bring us there? Show us this prisoner?" The pixie nodded, "I will, I will! Has her there still, she does," He made a beeline for the castle walls just where him and Diaval came from. Maleficent, Borra, and Diaval all jumped into action, following the little creature as they neared their destination. Maleficent's thoughts ran wild, a mantra of _she's like you, she's like you, she's like you _repeating itself over and over. It only made her walk faster, matching pace with Lickspittle.

They reached a large carved wooden door, wide in size with a iron engraved view slat reaching her waist. The pixie wrung his hands after digging in his pockets a moment, whimpering, "She took the key! Oh I forgot she took it, no no no. It's locked from the inside!" Maleficent gently brushed Lickspittle aside, stepping up while raising her palm and flicking a swift motion, and unlocked the door. It swung wide, old hinges whining loudly in protest to reveal darkness. 

She looked behind her to meet gazes with Borra, who's hand was already on the pommel of his blade, then to Diaval's own wide eyes who, bless him, was a step behind her and awaiting her first step. She faced forward again, and lifted her staff. It glowed and reflected green off the dark stone walls, illuminating the dark steps spiraling down into a dark abyss. She strode forward and unto the steps, hearing the rest follow suit behind her. It smelled of damp mold, with a hint of something chemical. Something unnatural. 

Down they went, with nothing but the sound of Lickspittle muttering to himself and her staff clinking with every step she descended for what felt like a long time, but realistically she knew it was a few minutes. They finally reached the bottom, and the little pixie rushed around her to light the lantern on his worktable.

Once the room was lit, she took everything in. The endless shelves lining the walls, filled to the brim with jars containing specimens, pastes, powders, bones, and were those _dead leaf fairies_? Her accusing eyes snapped to the wingless pixie, only to be distracted by the table he was standing by. There, near the rest of the instruments and gadgets and other horrible contraptions, was a bowl of red powder. _Fairy killer, _her mind supplied. She heard a snarl of rage behind her, and knew Borra had seen the same. Instead of what she could do, what she wanted to say to this little traitorous beast before her, she merely sighed. 

"Where is she?" Diaval. Always saying the things she could not. Bless him. Lickspittle toddled through the maze of their bodies to one of the shelves, bending to the very bottom one in the middle and retrieving a black key from underneath one of the old tomes set there. He stood up, striding to the side alcove, where an empty space of darkness partly curtained off was. Maleficent looked closely, noting the ashy remnants on the ground of what must have been the residing place of the spinning wheel aforementioned. She and the other males gathered behind him as the pixie swept a dark grey curtain to the side, revealing a newer looking door. This one all iron wrought.

"I must warn you, yes. This sight..it's not going to be good. They contained her with iron. Chained her with it, yes, to drain her power. Only way to contain her, it was." And with that, he unlocked the door and stood back.

Still reeling with that piece of information, because _chained with iron?, _she reached for the handle and opened the door, ignoring the hiss and burning of flesh. The door swung open, and the first thing she noticed was the _smell_. It reeked of blood and iron. She faintly heard a soft gag from Diaval in the back, but otherwise kept her focus solely on the small figure in the center of the room. Chains bolted from both sides of the room stretched to meet its sole target attached to each thin wrist in the form of thin bands. She stepped closer, suddenly wary of what they had just discovered. The figure didn't move, just remained in that knelt position with its arms stretched wide due to the taut chains, and head bent. She could make out two large wings slumped on either side of the body.

_Was it dead? _She wondered. She mourned.

Maleficent focused her senses a moment, reluctantly flaring her nostrils to take in the scent of the room, only to snap her eyes wide open again because indeed, it was female. A female imprisoned in iron chains and _isn't that familiar. _

Borra stepped forward, inching closer to the female who still hadn't moved. Once he'd gotten within a few feet of her, it was silent for a moment, before a snarled "_barbaric" _echoed throughout the room. That seemed to startle the female awake, her wild head of hair and black horns snapping up with a pained hiss. There, in all its glory for them to see, was an iron collar around her pale throat. Maleficent's staff glowed brighter in her rage, lighting the room now enough to see the blood coated on the female's raw wrists. On her neck. 

"What the fuck is _that_?" Diaval barked, and Maleficent jumped in surprise as he sprang forward to stand by Borra, the both of them intently studying the lock in the collar, trying to find a way to free the fey. 

"I told you! Iron chains!" Lickspittle proclaimed. "You said nothing about a _collar_!" Borra roared, and the pixie scampered behind Maleficent's robes in a burst of hysteria, "I'm sorry! I didn't think! I don't have a key, no no no." The male didn't pay him mind, instead he gripped one side of the chains attached to the female's wrist and _pulled_. Instead he only succeeded to drop them back as he wrung his hands, the flesh of his palms red and burning and the female's binds still very much intact. It was then that Maleficent stepped forward, and the nearer she drew, the more revealed was their object of study.

It was her that murmured "Dark fey", as they all stood in shock at the now highlighted reveal of the black wings gracing the dirty stone floor. The only sound to be heard was Borra's harsh breathing, and so to prevent him from providing another brilliant display of manhandling the chains, Maleficent raised her staff to the manacles. It wasn't easy, as iron is naturally the only repellant to all things magic, even the Phoenix, but she managed. The bands came off with a _clank_ and suddenly the female was making a beeline right for the floor. Borra made a mad dash for her, his hair a flurry behind him with how fast he moved. 

He hefted her into his arms, rising to full height with her wings dragging across the ground. Diaval scrambled to gently move her dark hair out of the way of the collar, allowing Maleficent full view of the damage there. Borra was right, they should kill the bitch queen. As if reading her thoughts, he bared his teeth in a silent snarl, canines on full display at the sight of the ruined skin of her throat. She winced in sympathy, how long has she been like this? For months. _Years? _Gods. She was barely alive, if the short rise and fall of her chest was any indication. She was severely underweight, collarbones jutting out and all hollowed cheekbones. 

With a few more concentrated moments, the collar came off with a resounding _clank. _Diaval twitched from the sound of the collar sliding off and falling to the floor, still holding his position by her head. They waited with bated breath, Borra not even breathing at all. Suddenly, the female in his arms gave a gasping inhale, almost as if she were coming up for air from the bottom of the sea. Diaval full on jumped from the force of it.

Her eyes snapped open. Then softly drifted shut. Her breathing became short again.

At first Maleficent stared in confusion, and then confusion soon turned into horror. Slowly, so slowly, her wide eyes raised to meet Diaval's, who's own dark ones were already waiting for hers. 

"She has your eyes. Why does she have your eyes?" He asked. 

She could only stand there, gaping like a fool. Numbness spread throughout her body, and it felt as if everything were underwater. Funny, it sounded like it was, as well. Indeed, they were her eyes. She'd never met anyone in her lifetime with her eyes. 

Slowly, she turned back to Borra just in time to watch his nostrils flare wide, eyes drinking her in, bones and blood and wings and all. His attention never strayed from her, and she wondered if she smacked his leg with her staff if he would even care at all. She was almost tempted to try. He slowly turned with her still in his arms, and began the careful trek out of the dungeon. Because that's what this was. A dungeon prison. 

She stood still as a statue as she watched his back disappear up the stone steps to the outside world, mindful of the female still in his arms. She'd never seen him be so gentle. 

She registered Diaval's kind hands on her arm and back, guiding her onto that same path up and up, but that was all. Bless him.

It didn't register with her until much later that the pixie abandoned them before she ever managed to get the collar off.


	2. Blood and Bones and all

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> She awakens.

_Maleficent_

Up and up they went, feet carefully picking their way up the stone stairways, no one saying a word.

What was there to say? She could barely wrap her mind around it, this atrocity that had been unveiled. For the first time in her life, and all her snark and quips, Maleficent had been rendered speechless.

Many thoughts ran rampant through her mind. Should they take her to the castle? Perhaps the female would awaken soon, and if she did, she knew waking in a strange place with more stone walls, closing in and entrapping, would surely end in a bad situation for all around. No, she could take them to the forest, where the fey may rest and recover in the comfort of the Moors' trees and soft bedded grass.

It was their instinct to take comfort in nature, Maleficent knew that much.

Once they reached the top of the stairs, Borra awkwardly shifted to the side a bit and ducked his large body under the doorway, careful not to jostle the unconscious female in his grasp. He shuffled out into the sunlight, and Maleficent and Diaval followed suit, the both of them squinting in the rays of the afternoon sun once fully outside.

If the situation weren't so dire she would find it almost comical with the way Borra was being so gentle. She'd only seen him fighting, or yelling. Not to mention the snark and dark humor he packed into that large head of his.

She'd managed to get glimpses of the female while trekking up the stairs, or what she could see of her around Borra's bulk, but the light from the outside brought startling clarity to what had been done to this female.

Her raw and bleeding throat looked much worse than it had in the dungeon. Maleficent's eyes went to the female's sharp face, sunken and bruised, taking in the way the sunlight made her pallor look translucent, veins darkened and seemingly straining against her skin. Her delicate fey ears picked up the faint hiss and sizzling of iron-burned skin already working to heal itself, and her nose wrinkled a bit as the scent of burned flesh permeated the air. The fey was obviously in pain, if the way her arched brows furrowed and full lips pressed into a taut line, turning them white, was anything to go by.

How could this have happened and she didn't know it? Sense it? She'd been to this castle more than once now, and never had she even had an inkling to it. Maleficent had to work hard to keep the rage rising within her tempered.

The female's clothing surprisingly did not consist of rags, but rather a plain black cotton shift hanging off of her bony shoulders by straps, the hem stopping at her thighs. The sun gave a full display of the intricate stark black tattoos twisting and twining in indecipherable and complicated patterns from her forearms to shoulders, and the Phoenix had a suspicion it probably went beyond to her back by the way it didn't seem to end.

She was tall, likely closer to Maleficent's height herself what with her long legs and torso, but resting there in Borra's muscled arms, she looked small, malnourished, and defeated.

She reached a hand out, raising a finely arched eyebrow at Borra, who'd tensed at the movement, only to rest it upon the female's brow.

She hummed lightly, focusing her magic on the body beneath her palm. She could feel Diaval shifting restlessly beside her, out of nervousness or fear, she did not know. Still, no one said a word. Borra's intense stare burned into her, watching as she healed some of the cuts and bruises that she could on the fey's body.

As soon as her magic delved deeper, even deeper than the first layer of flesh and into tissue and muscle, she visibly recoiled at the iron found in the female's veins, flowing there as if it belonged, and in doing so accidentally called back her magic, too sudden for the frail female before her. The fey jolted, eyes still closed but breathing erratic now, as if Maleficent's magic somehow awakened something within her.

Borra's green eyes darted from the fey's face back to Maleficent's. Powerful and capable she may be, but she was beginning to think that perhaps the sort of healing this fey needed was beyond her. Maladies and certain injuries she could do, but this was something else.

"What was that?" Diaval's voice shook, startled by the sudden movement, and Maleficent wordlessly shook her head, her hand lowering back to her side, and met Borra's awaiting gaze.

His deep voice rumbled,"We need to move, before this draws a bigger crowd."

Her and Diaval looked around, and sure enough, they were beginning to raise an audience. The workshop door behind them wasn't too far from the main castle grand doors, it just wasn't near any other entrance, so it wasn't plausible for other nearby men and fey alike to not notice the odd group they made just standing there for all to see.

About to address the others of her line of thinking, she was so distracted with assuring this didn't go wrong that she didn't notice the female's fingers twitch. But Diaval's raven eyes caught it, and he'd just opened his mouth to warn them when the fey's eyes once more snapped open, only this time they didn't close again.

* * *

  
_Severyn_

She felt as if she were floating.

Drifting somewhere farther into the darkness, farther from where her mind guarded her soul so fiercely. Darkness always welcomed her with open arms. It's where she went whenever her physical body on earth endured more pain, more iron and torture and that hateful bitch that never seemed to make it end.

She always called out into that darkness, not knowing whether she would receive a reply or more pain. Sometimes she got both. Her voice would ring out, echoing in this forever abyss, but sometimes it went unanswered. This time, something in the darkness called back to her. But this wasn't the voice she was accustomed to, sounding both young and old, male and female, its ancient whispers tickling her cheeks, kissing her ears.

Not threatening, no. Nor was this voice. It was almost familiar.

It was something green. Like her own, her mind supplied.

She tried to open her eyes, tried to lift her arms, so numb yet heavy from those damned chains, yielding no results. She felt as if she were burning from the inside, everything turning to molten ash within her. She couldn't even feel her wings anymore, just the soreness of her shoulder blades and burning sockets where those wings should be. Had she finally taken them? Ripped them from her body while she was so out of it this time? Open your eyes and see!

She's honestly surprised she'd had them this long. The queen was cruel and relentless, she'd tried many techniques -all involving iron- to try and break her. But she would not yield. Her pride nor her magic would not let her.

Any other fey would have died long ago in her place. It wasn't arrogance, just the simple truth. Her magic wouldn't have let her, and it was the only thing holding her together, this well of power inside her.

Sometimes she thought she was dead.

Sometimes she wishes she was.

Whenever her mind travels that path, the darkness is there to rescind. Remember your purpose, it would croon. Escape, make them pay.

She'd never forget, she'd answer with a snarl. Those traitorous gods-damned bastards had served her to the queen on a silver platter. Weak from their beating and still incomprehensible from what they used to drug her. To enslave her.

Were they considered traitors when they were never on her side, nor she on theirs? Even when they tossed their own kind at the feet of the human queen who now had her in this hell prison?

No, they weren't traitors. They were worse.

She should have been better. Should have fled while she could, and not stayed to fight the males who'd challenged her, the ground they had stood on still hot and simmering from the wildfyre she'd summoned. Wildfyre she'd used to put those females out of their misery, which in turn only enraged the fey males more.

She's thought about that horrific morning every day for the last ten years, and she still didn't know what she would have done differently. Perhaps the same thing, over and over.

Severyn still couldn't get those females out of her head, the blood and tears and bones jutting from broken skin, blood-stained wings of all colors laying uselessly on the forest floor, forever engrained into her memory.

There to stay with her forever.

Death was a mercy at the best of times, and she gave it to those females. She still remembers the way the last one looked at her before the fire took her, the beautiful female with eyes like the ocean standing out against skin dark as the bark of a willow, and her final words, mouthed only for Severyn to see.

Thank you.

It was a painless death, the only thing she could give them in those desperate moments, one moment in pain, the next in ash. Then nothing. A clean mercy kill.

She may have had a hell of a time with her magic, wild and vicious as she, but it had its merits.

Yes, it was worth it if it meant freedom to those females, freedom rightfully owed, she would do it all over again.

Sometimes she wondered if she would join them soon.

She also wondered if the darkness would let her. It seemed content to cradle her in its grasp, warmth seeping into her side.

Did it also have a heartbeat?, she wondered.

Wait.

Was she still floating? Still in the deep recesses of her mind, shielding her from whatever horrors were occurring to her body in present time?

No.

She was being moved. She could hear faint footsteps echoing against the damp walls.

She worked to keep her breathing in the same pattern it had been in, careful not to move, only to give a slight twitch when she was able to inhale without feeling the skin of her throat brush up against the iron collar. What the fuck? She inhaled again, a little deeper this time. Still nothing, only the hot coal burning on the inside of her throat. Someone had taken it off. A mistake on their part, she thought. It was the only way they'd managed to contain her so far, besides the dose of iron dust flowing through her veins.

Contained enough so those filthy humans could study her.

Trying to discover the secrets of her power residing in her body. Good luck with that, she'd snorted at them. She had received a particularly nasty black eye for that one, but whatever, it was worth it.

She slowly twitched her wrists, testing then confirming with startling realization that those were off, too. What were they playing at? If they were relocating her, she'd assume they would have taken extra precautionary measures, seeing that the small hell hole she was locked in was their best bet at keeping her successfully in chains.

She could wreck all hell otherwise.

She was going to.

Before she could begin to plan an escape, the person holding her crouched over her as he or she shuffled them through a doorway, and immediately she was hit with sunlight. Gods-giving warm sunlight on her. She struggled not to squint her closed eyes, confusion filling her once more.

The scent of blood, smoke, and debris sat heavy in the air. Had a battle taken place?

The body holding her closely, too closely, tensed suddenly. Had she been found out? What would she open her eyes to? An army outside at their back, equipped with iron spears and swords ready to kill her? Just as her mind started supplying her with images of enemies in chain mail, a cool slender palm rested itself on her brow.

She almost jolted out of her skin, she really wanted to. No one dare touch her in such a calm manner. But what stayed her hand was the immediate cool sensation of soothing magic entering her being. Her very soul.

It's like yours it's like yours it's like yours-

It made a sweep of her battered body, and Severyn felt the small cuts and bruises she had fade away to nothing. The magic delved a little deeper, as if searching for something, but whatever it found made it retreat so suddenly, so harshly that she gave a rattled gasp and then she really did jolt out of her skin.

Someone nearby gave a startled gasp, and it gave her a wicked sort of delight to still instill fear even when assumed unconscious. When that same being asked what it was, she listened for the answer, as she too was curious to what the hell was going on. She was disappointed when no response came.

The one holding her finally spoke, "We need to move, before this draws a bigger crowd."

His voice was a deep, rumbling thing against her ears and body.

Her pained brows furrowed further, but quickly fixed them back, and as subtly as she could manage, she slowly inhaled. What she took in was not the scent of a human man. Humans usually had a distinctive smell, men in particular. From birth, fey are ingrained with a with a unique scent, usually so they can be easily distinguished amongst one another. Humans weren't the same. The men generally reeked of sweat and salt and fear, at least in the presence of a magical being, especially one as fearsome as the fey.

Based off the scent she took in just now, this wasn't a man at all, but purely male. Right now the more dominant scent of blood, both human and fey, and fey steel overpowered the underlying scent of leather and forest, maybe even a hint of citrus? It's been so long since she's smelt anything but her blood, iron, and the dank dungeon she was kept in, so it could be completely wrong.

If he was male, which she dreaded, then this was going to be a lot harder than she'd expected. But wasn't it always? The fates seemed to have damned her the moment her tribe died. Well, most of them, her parents and cousins included.

If she'd learned anything at all, it was to trust in her instincts. She was a dying breed. It was all she had now.

She opened her eyes, only to squint for real this time as the late noon sun blinded her, but then a head full of long tawny hair and black horns blocked it out, shading her from head to neck.

Startled gold-green eyes met earthy green, the both of them staring at one another for a long moment. The sight of those curling horns was all the confirmation she needed.

He blinked, and she was a whirl of motion.

His head snapped up and back, so fast from the hard blow she dealt under his chin with her elbow, and she tumbled from his arms. Survival instincts kicked in, her blood rushing in her ears as she landed on her heels in the grass, hissing at the pain in her entire body. Fight now, fight. Fight. She knew it well, that instinct and drive to preserve her life, and take it from others. It'd been ingrained into her since she was a feyling.

Quickly crouching a few feet back from the form before her, Severyn gave the male a once over.

He was huge. The dark fey before her was definitely a warrior, his fighting leathers splattered in blood and black wings flared wide in shock from her sudden assault. They were large, blocking most of her view of the sun from her crouched position, casting a large shadow all around them. Most likely a tactic to prevent her escape.

Eyes narrowed, her nostrils flared wide, adrenaline a sharp, painful crescendo in her veins. She eyed the column of his throat, on full display due to his head still held high from the hit, and wondered what his large chest would look like soaked in his blood if she sank her teeth into him.

She'd like to find out.

Slowly, he cracked his neck, and her eyes studied him as he lowered that great horned head to look at her. Her heart rate picked up so quickly she was sure his fey ears could hear, gaze focused in on his face streaked with war paint. He looked like one of those gods of war in the stories her father used to tell her and her cousins around the bonfires. It was as if someone had dipped their fingers in black paint, dragging it from his temple to chin, three rows just to the left of his nose, and again on the other side, this side stopping at his eyebrow. White paint made the same effect just under his nose, the rows ending just underneath his chin.

A trail of blood leaked out of the corner of his mouth, where he'd most likely bitten his tongue from her blow. Good, she thought, now we're both bleeding.

He merely swiped his tongue out, licking the blood away, and gave a slow cocky grin. Arrogant bastard.

He looked feral, like a true dark fey warrior, and a worthy opponent. Severyn swallowed.

Not wanting him making the first move, Severyn ignored the burning in her body -like wildfyre- and stood, ready to leap for the kill-

Only to stumble on shaking legs.

Oh, gods. She knew that sudden weight. Her wings. Her eyes widened imperceptibly, breath quickening as she risked a glance over her shoulder to the black wings at her sore back and they were still attached thank fuck-

Only to stumble again, this time backwards due to the sheer weight of them, just now noticing they were still there.

Her panicked eyes widened further if possible, useless skinny arms flinging out to her sides to help balance herself, probably making herself look like a lanky stupid bird in the process. Her head shot up at sudden movement in front of her, just in time to see the male take a step forward, stupid smile gone and his hands reaching out as if to help her. His eyes held a hint of disbelief, and she snarled at him, baring her canines and daring him to take another step. He halted, now frozen and eyes slowly-so slowly- raised to meet her own once more.

Severyn struggled to right herself, unused to the heavy weight of her wings. She used to be strong, once. And carried herself as if they weighed nothing more than a leaf fairy. Fey had to be strong, and well muscled, in order to live. And now she was reduced to this. Waif thin, malnourished and this aching of her magic begging to be released, clawing from the inside of her core. It felt as if she would burst.

Her posture positively ached to right itself but she managed it, standing tall to herself seem bigger than she was and lifted her chin, daring him with her eyes to make the first move.

She'd fought many of her kind in her life, what was one more?

But instead, to her shock, the great brute instantly relaxed his posture, exhaling on a breath, and in doing so, the sunlight caught on the blade at his hip, drawing her eyes. The glimpse made her tense further, and he slowly raised his palms, never breaking eye contact as he calmly lowered those great wings, tucking them neatly against him. When the movement gained no acknowledgement, he lowered his horned head to her, finally lowering his eyes to the ground before him.

Gods above, he was being submissive.

Good, the darkness crooned back at her.

This male's body language clearly stated surrender, trying to what- put her at ease? Lower her defenses? She scoffed, but he never moved from this new position. It was a clever trick, she'd give him that. She wondered how many had fallen for it.

"I'm not a fucking idiot." She croaked. Her throat screamed in protest, those hot coals burning a fire red as if stoked with those few hoarse words. She didn't even recognize her own voice, it felt like a permanent rasp.

Her hands tightened into fists when he didn't answer, just kept holding that lowered stance. She supposed if she was going to unleash her magic now, let it loose a little to help ease that aching, she might as well start with him. As if in answer, she felt that coiling power unravel from her naval, eagerly crawling up into her chest cavity and spread all the way to her toes and fingertips. It was eager to do her bidding, and by the way the male before her stiffened and shot his eyes up to her, she'd be willing to bet the ridiculous shift she wore that he knew it, too.

Suddenly, his eyes shifted to something just over her shoulder. "No." It was firm, yet soft, to whoever he spoke to, and her blood ran cold. There were others behind her. The footsteps on the staircase she'd heard earlier.

You damned idiot. Of course there were more of them, she'd been the only one of her kind she knew of that traveled alone. Granted, she was off her game but, she knew better.

Keeping her breathing even, Severyn slowly peeked over her shoulder after assuring the warrior stayed put, but all she could make out from around her drooping wings were dark robes and a pair of boots next to them. Her body turned sideways, careful not to turn her back on the male, and beheld the pair.

Her eyes automatically went to the male first, and wrinkled her nose in distaste of the dark haired human dressed in black leathers. Strange, he didn't smell human, or she would have scented it sooner. No, she thought as she took in his surprised expression, gaping mouth and all, he was something other.

Her eyes shot from him to the female, with horns, dressed in black robes who was holding a glowing staff to Severyn's face. It was obviously a display of defense, prepared for Severyn's first move, but all she could think was she's beautiful. The fey female's eyes were fixated on her own, ringed in the same green and gold magic as Severyn's. She looked as if she wanted to say something, but hadn't found the words.

Severyn felt the same. This female standing before her, face looking like it were carved by the higher powers themselves, bore a striking resemblance to her aunt. The same nose, the full lips, finely arched brows. Slender like her, too. The only difference was this female had darker hair, compared to her aunt's deep auburn. Her mother's sister, she thought sadly. Was it possible?

The female had an air of intelligence about her. It was in the eyes, her confident stance. What was going on?

Severyn attempted to ask "who are you?", but midway through she fell into a coughing fit. A bad one. She hunched over, lungs struggling to take in air with the force of her coughs which soon turned to heaves. Her body must have reached its limit, she thought absently, as the hacking grew worse. Through watering eyes, Severyn saw them all move in at once, whether to assist or detain she didn't know. The situation was made worse when she stood up suddenly to defend herself, too fast as she swayed with the rush of dizziness and sudden fever. Her wings brushed against the solid form of the fey male and she wheeled back around, teeth bared.

She moved to point a finger at him just as a particularly horrid fit took over once more, this time bringing the feeling of something thick sliding up her esophagus. She felt the first jolt of fear that day as the sliding sensation brought a fierce burning, lighting her insides on fire and crawling out of her. Her hand slapped her mouth as the first round spewed out, preventing it from getting everywhere. There was so much it pushed out from between her fingers, trailing down her forearm and dripping from her elbow onto the grass below.

The male's expression went from calm to panicked in an instant, darting a worried glance to the others behind her. She didn't even have it in her to care anymore, she just wanted it to stop. The female said something, but Severyn couldn't hear it over the roaring in her ears and her mind screaming it hurts it hurts it hurts.

The fey warrior stood straight, a determined expression taking over his sharp features. Right when he began to reach for her, prepared to likely hoist her into his muscled arms again, she raised her other hand to him, pointing a long nail at his face like she wanted to before. The retort "don't you fucking dare" was on the tip of her tongue before the cool sensation of magic touched her again, this time sending her into a gentle slumber.

She didn't even feel her body being lifted after that, or the weightless feeling of soaring through the skies.

Darkness just welcomed her with it's open arms once more, and she felt as if she were floating.

* * *

_Maleficent_

Well, she was fast, Maleficent would give her that.

She watched as the scene played out, trying not to laugh outright as the slip of a female before them positively nailed Borra in the face. Diaval winced in sympathy, but Maleficent was delighted.

If this worked out, maybe they could keep her.

She couldn't have been much younger than herself, looking as if she'd settled into her immortal body long ago.

She frowned as she heard the fey's rasping voice, reminding her that the female was still in danger health wise.

When she raised her magic threateningly at Borra, Maleficent knew it was time to step in.

Surprised at Borra's refusal of help, she understood.

Just before she could lower her staff, she locked eyes with the female, and for the third time that evening, she felt shook to her core.

The female's eyes glowed green.

When the female hunched over, coughing and struggling, Maleficent wasn't sure what to do.

When the female stood back up, clutching a hand to her mouth to contain whatever hell was about to come up, they all watched, frozen and transfixed.

When the black tar broke through her thin fingers, eyes wide in horror, Maleficent and Borra jumped into action.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm having a good ass time writing this.


	3. We Still Go On

_Maleficent_

"And then what happened?" Aurora's eyes were comically wide, cup of tea long cold by now forgotten on the bronze wrought balcony table between them, completely immersed in Maleficent's recount of the what had occurred the day before yesterday.

Maleficent sighed, a long nail tapping idly at her tea cup. "Borra had already taken to the skies with her, but not before I told him to take her to the fey healers. I'd originally thought to bring her to the Moors' castle, but after my magic sensed what lay within her...well. I felt it best to let her be evaluated by their healers. They would know more than I about something this severe."

Aurora sat back in her chair, a heavy exhale escaping her. "That poor creature." She murmured, fingers playing about her pink lips. A crumpled embroidered handkerchief lay next to her plate, which she'd used to wipe at her tears, the darkened spots on the baby blue cloth still visible. She'd shed tears for a fey she had never met, this compassionate daughter of hers. Fresh ones lingered there now, in the rims of her sky blue eyes.

Maleficent had knocked on their private chamber doors just before dawn, and her, Aurora, and Phillip had all sat at the delicately hand crafted table on the patio balcony outside. She'd sat there, going into vivid detail explaining the events taken place, at times letting her eyes trail over the pink and red hand painted roses decorating the table top when the details got too vivid. She spoke long past sunrise.

Phillip had already heard most of the story, but not Aurora. Maleficent had pulled him aside the previous evening after spending her day in the Moors, thinking carefully over her next steps in the comfort of her first home, knowing the royal couple deserved at least one day of wedding bliss before she delivered the news.

After her and Borra had safely delivered the female to the healers that evening, garnering more than a few curious stares, the healers had confirmed that she would live. It was more a matter of when she would wake.

Maleficent and Borra had made a hasty trip back to Ulstead in time for the wedding, and she tasked him with taking a small squadron of the warriors still at the castle and scouting for any hidden shelters capable of holding one of their kind in the areas surrounding the castle, needing to know if the fey female was the only captive. After the wedding, nobody noticed a few missing dark fey, too busy celebrating the newly married prince and queen and mingling with the mixed crowds.

To say the least, It was a long day.

The plan was to meet back at the caves today so Borra could report back on their findings.

She'd slept in the Moors that night, with only Diaval for company. Exhausted to the bone, mentally and physically, to do much else, she had simply shed her first layer of clothing and threw herself onto the soft magic-summoned bedding and promptly fell asleep, Diaval already lying face first in the gentle grass nearby and snoring loudly.

The prince hadn't said a word since she'd started speaking. He sat there next to them still, only now his head was in his hands, his lengthy untied auburn hair spilling over them as his elbows rested unceremoniously on the table. It was obvious he was distressed, more so shocked at the truth that'd come from her own lips.

He roughly scrubbed at his face, and Maleficent and Aurora shared a look of concern between them, turning back to him once his hands finally lowered. His eyes were red rimmed and watery, lips pressed taut in what could have been fury or devastation. A blend of both, she surmised.

At last, he said, "That woman is not my mother."

Maleficent blinked, not giving away much else. Aurora grabbed the hand resting on the table in front of him, squeezing gently. He continued, "Did I ever even know her at all? She-she tortured her. She ordered the capture of dozens of magical beings for experimentation and then hundreds of that red powdered hell to be unleashed on you all," he paused, chest heaving, and Maleficent's heart went out to him. "How could I have not known? Not known that something was off in my own home?!"

He stood up, blue eyes wild, and grabbed the nearest object-which happened to be Maleficent's own tea cup-and hurled it at the stone wall behind them. The glass shattered, spraying the grey colored stone a darker shade. She watched as the clinging tea drops raced a trail down the wall. Aurora stood from the table then, not wasting a moment to swiftly walk to her husband and wrap his taller frame in her embrace, the light pink chiffon of her dress fluttering behind her with her movements. Phillip didn't hesitate in returning it, long arms wrapping right around her, his face buried in her golden hair.

They stayed like that for a few minutes, Maleficent giving them a moment to themselves while she picked through the leftover biscuits on the trey platter set in the middle of the table. Her long fingers flicked aside the sweet frosted ones, tsk, to reach for the only cinnamon biscuit left. Aurora knew they were her favorite, and had supplied a generous amount. Maleficent had eaten them all save this one, fueling her body for the long flight over the ocean and back to the fey.

Another morning breeze came, and she felt the feathers of her wings ruffle with it, fluttering her long hair and tickling her elbows. It was a strange adjustment, allowing the thick tresses to hang loose from her usual wraps. But things were changing now, and she felt it was time to let this be one of those changes. She'd decided to allow herself to slowly embrace the culture of the fey, and that meant letting go of some defenses, the leather head wraps being one of them.

It was freeing. And she felt lighter for it.

The newly wedded couple had separated just as she swallowed down the rest, and Maleficent cleared her throat. She looked to Phillip. "What happened was not your doing, and any transgression that was committed was in no way your fault, Phillip. Know that," When he made to interrupt her, she raised a hand, silencing him once more. "Your mother is a manipulative woman. And she will pay for her crimes, have no doubt of it. But I believe we'd gotten out of her as much as we could."

It was true, after giving Phillip the brief rundown of their findings, Diaval a steady presence at her back, Phillip had turned around, striding off with a quick come on over his shoulder. And they followed.

Down they went, her, Diaval, and Phillip, trekking their way down to the palace dungeons, where Queen Ingrith was under strict supervision by Phillip's own hand picked guards.

When they got there, they didn't know what to expect, not even Phillip himself. But they certainly hadn't anticipated Ingrith's descent to madness so quickly. In the span of a single day, the woman was incomprehensible. Screeching nonsense at any passerby, pacing the cells in her dirty white queen's robes and pulling at her unraveling greying hair. The guards had reported that she kept muttering to herself, and trying to reach through the bars to claw at anyone who walked too close to her cell.

When her own son attempted to interrogate her, there was no recognition in her eyes, only cruel coldness. He'd plead and begged her to reveal more about the mysterious prisoner, but she wouldn't speak of it. Finally, after many attempts on both their parts, the most interesting piece of information they gleaned from her was when Diaval had thought to ask,"Where did you find her?"

That'd stopped Ingrith short. She'd slowly turned to him then, and for a moment Maleficent had thought she'd seen a brief moment of clarity flash in the woman's eyes before they darkened, and a cruel smile played about her lips. Maleficent wanted to claw it off.

"Why, not found, you mean," She'd murmured, "No. I bought her."

Phillip had paled, hands gripping the bars, but his sickly pallor quickly turned to a flush, his rage released in a series of yells and how could you or why did you?

But she had only continued pacing, her long dress train dragging behind on the damp floors, collecting grime and turning ragged. Maleficent's ears had picked up something peculiar then. Strange phrases that Ingrith had begun to repeat under her breath, over and over.

He gave me ten years.

I had one month left.

Forge the iron, forge the iron, forgetheiron-

Those foreboding words still echoed in her head now, sitting there at the flower adorned table. She blinked the memories of last night away, and continued,"You're doing an admiral job, Phillip. I will aid you in any way I can, as will my people. Your father is proud of you both...as am I."

He looked shocked at her words, and for good reason. It was probably the nicest thing she'd ever said to him, besides her final acceptance of him and their union. King Phillip had proved himself to the kingdoms as an honorable and just man, both worthy traits of a king, and a loving and gentle husband to her daughter.

King. He was a king now.

It was unofficial, yet he was treated as one anyways. The people looked to both him and Aurora now, whether it be with their problems amongst the commoners or guidance in this new accord with the magic realms. His father still helped him, of course. Guiding him in his new role, giving advice when asked and offering encouragement when necessary. Queen Aurora even offered pointers of her own, but King Phillip seemed to take on the role naturally with grace and the determination for the betterment of his newly inherited kingdom. Soon enough he wouldn't need his father at all.

King John made the final announcement just after the young couple's wedding that he was abdicating from his reign, passing the crown to his only heir, Prince Phillip. The people readily accepted, for they already loved their prince. The coronation ceremony had yet to happen, the date of formal recognition constantly pushed back by the more pressing issues such as cleaning and rebuilding the broken towers of the castle, and cementing the peace between the magic folk and humans for good.

The King Father John, as is his new title, felt it time to step down from his role as King after the events that his wife caused. He was weary and tired, still recovering from the curse the queen had set upon him and reeling from her betrayal. He could often be found perusing through books in the enormous palace library or taking a stroll through his beloved gardens, sitting on his favored stone bench by the fountain near the colorful carnations.

Maleficent had spoken with him there a few times already, never hesitating to sit with him on the spacious bench. After their lengthy conversations, topics ranging broadly from the treaty to her homeland to even their favorite kinds of flowers, she realized she had misjudged him. He was an open-minded generous man, whose kindness and wish for peace was overshadowed by a vindictive and manipulative queen.

She'd found a friend in him, she muses, and him in her.

Before Phillip could form a reply, Maleficent stood, stretching her sun-warmed wings and arms. "Well, I believe it's time that I head back now. I need to check the status of our mystery "guest", and speak to the dark fey. I know they're curious of the new arrival, especially considering I left without a word." They both nodded, and Aurora came around the table to hug her goodbye.

"Give Diaval my love, and have a safe flight," She whispered. Maleficent nodded, and pressed a chaste kiss to her brow. Moving to stand at the banister railing, she stopped suddenly. She turned her horned head, looking back. "And Phillip," she called out, continuing once she had his attention,"If the fey awakens, and by some luck she's cooperative and able to remember everything, I will give you the names or descriptions of the guards who helped your mother in keeping her imprisoned. They need to be dealt with swiftly. Until then, be careful who you put your trust in, both of you."

That was another issue altogether, seeing as the only two beings who had the answers were either incoherent or unconscious. Lickspittle was still missing.

At her words his expression darkened again, and he gave a sharp nod, Aurora doing the same.

She nodded back, satisfied, and with a flare of her black wings, she was off.

* * *

  
When she got closer to the Dark Island, a large form was already waiting for her, standing at the ledge of the cliffs just outside the cave's entrances. Its figure was obscured by the misty clouds and waves crashing against the cliff-face, spraying everywhere. Once passing through the clouds, she wasn't at all surprised to see that it was Borra.

Her boot clad feet had just touched down on the rocky terrain when he started his way toward her, apparently ready to start in on her. "How did they take it?" He had to raise his voice over the roaring waves, but her fey ears heard regardless. He'd washed his face at some point, clean of the warrior paint, probably in some nearby creek or stream he'd stopped at during the search.

She snorted, not breaking stride as she made began to make her way toward the caves. "What, no greeting? 'How was the flight, Maleficent? Do you need to rest before I interrogate you like the ass I am, Maleficent?'" She felt rather than saw his eyes roll to the heavens as he caught up to her. "Cheeky witch," He muttered.

Before he could ask again, she tossed her damp hair over a shoulder and replied,"They took it just as I told you they would, they were devastated, but now they know everything we do. Did you find anything?"

He briefly halted, allowing her to enter first as they traveled into the first layers of the cave system. "No," he grunted, "Not surprised, considering our kind can't be contained that easily. The castle , and we found her. We just got back. I sent Zorra ahead a few moments ago to gather the clan heads for the briefing, I've been waiting for you."

She hummed in acknowledgment, and they walked the rest of the way in comfortable silence to the meeting room. Nothing but their footsteps and the clank of her summoned staff echoed off the cavernous walls, and the muffled roaring of the ocean faded the further they went.

They could hear a variety of voices a few tunnels ahead, some rising over each other, giving away that they were already in the spacious cave room waiting for them to appear. She sighed,"Here we go."

Borra huffed a laugh through his nose, and grunted in agreement.

They turned the final corner and entered at the same time, and the room fell silent as they watched the duo calmly stride in the shadows towards the naturally raised dais at the front.

The group simultaneously split down the middle, paving a pathway for the co-leaders and bowing their heads respectfully as they passed, Borra giving the occasional nod or forearm clasp to fellow fey. Maleficent kept her eyes forward.

She didn't know all of them yet, but she would make an effort to learn. She had time now.

She saw Zorra standing just to the side of where they were headed, and Borra seemed to lighten as soon as he spotted her. She met Maleficent's gaze then, and the female gave an exasperated roll of her eyes, not unlike her twin, and she had to suppress a smirk. The poor female had likely had to suffer through the clan heads' incessant bickering and posturing, them all being males except for the sole female clan leader, Shrike of the jungle (who was too busy to care, bored and studying her long nails). Once they reached Zorra, Borra gave a playful shove to her shoulder without breaking stride, and Zorra retaliated by kicking him lightly in the shin, the both of them holding a silent conversation with a look.

Passing her, they traveled the worn footholds leading up to the platform, and stepped into a ray of light pointing down, right where they needed to be. Borra was a silent presence next to her, so she supposed she may as well be the first to start.

Marvelous.

"We called you hear to address the rumors regarding a new guest," she began. Before she could continue, a voice spoke up from the crowd. "Are you going to finally explain why you brought a stranger into our home?" Beside her, Borra tensed. Her eyes snapped to the speaker, easily identifying him as Vulken, the leader of the desert clan. He was a mountain of a male, easily standing above the rest with his large arms crossed in front of his chest. Her eyes narrowed, incensed at being interrupted, and opened her mouth to tell him so when Borra answered.

"Interrupt her again, and I'll throw you into the ocean myself with your wings tied." His deep voice rumbled, cutting through the air in the room and causing a few fey to shift uncomfortably, undoubtedly feeling the tension the words had caused. Some even started to eye the two males back and forth nervously, but Borra and Vulken were too busy to notice, still staring each other down. Borra's body language dared him to rise to the challenge, head slightly cocked to the side and hands loose by his sides, his bronze eyes never leaving him.

Using magic to settle disputes was strongly discouraged amongst the fey. If you wanted to fight someone, you did it with your bare hands, that way everyone could be on even ground.

Borra's wings flared slightly, as if in challenge, and after another tense filled moment, Vulken lowered his eyes, uncrossing his arms and inclining his head slightly to them both.

She scoffed, males.

Vulken may have been the bigger male-though not by much-but Borra exuded a dangerous aura when his temper was stoked, she could see it just moments after meeting the male. His prowess in battle and the passion he holds for the wellbeing of the dark fey are what made the people choose him to lead them, regardless of his younger age, only being older than herself by a decade or so.

The noise drew the attention back to her, and she cocked a brow, amused. "May I speak now? Or are we still comparing wing spans?" Zorra immediately started coughing, no doubt to cover a laugh trying to force its way through, and Shrike was smirking wide, finally entertained since this whole thing had begun.

Vulken flushed, but didn't say a word. Borra, however, had no qualms of replying with a smug grin. "By all means, Lady Phoenix, if you wish to turn that staff into something that can measure us, do it, but I'll save you the time and tell you now that mine is bigger. So please, finish what you were saying." Zorra's coughs turned into full on laughs and a few of the others chuckled, as well.

She just shook her head, as did the fey elders, who were used to the snark the more bold of them displayed. Judging by the way they didn't attempt to rebuff them, it seemed this was a common occurrence.

Ugh, males.

Once the humor died down, and everyone was settled again, Maleficent cleared her throat, her intention to continue clear in her now glowing golden eyes.

The group grew quiet, seriousness settling onto their features, sensing the change in the air of the room.

"It is true, we have brought another into our midst, and she is currently in the Healer's Den being attended to her injuries," when no one tried to interrupt her, she went on,"Borra and I found her in a cell, being held prisoner by Queen Ingrith." Some of the fey whispered to each other, shocked by the unexpected news.

A hand shot in the air, and Maleficent nodded to Shrike, amused at her tactic to gain her attention. The group quiet ended once more. "What are the nature of her injuries?" She asked, and Maleficent sighed. This was the moment that could potentially damage the alliance between the humans. Once it was out there, the consequences could be severe. She only hoped she could do the damage control before it even began.

She thought for a moment on how to start, but decided it best to give them the honest recount, not glossing over anything. "We found her in iron chains, bound with iron bands around her wrists and a collar around her neck," at this, someone in the back let out a moan of agony, as if they too understood the agony the female had been subjected to. "We freed her from her chains, and brought her to the healers. That is where I'm headed after this, to be updated on the progress of her recovery."

There was a influx of reactions from the crowd. Most looked distraught or furious, no doubt imagining the burning pain of iron melting into flesh, and some looked regretful, most likely from their original approach to a stranger in their homeland, Vulken being one of them. Ironic, considering that not long ago she too was a stranger to their hidden world, and they accepted her with joyous demeanor.

It's the blood in your veins , her mind whispered, the Phoenix that lies within you.

It wasn't the whole truth, she knew. While yes, they looked to her as their leader now because of her ancient bloodlines and power, they also accepted her because she was another dark fey. One more of their dying kind.

One of them.

Preservation seemed to be key, and she'd heard first hand both from Borra and the late Conall of how all fey life was precious to them, to be protected and nurtured.

So she knew they were just being cautious on who they accepted into their midst. She couldn't blame them, since up until now she'd thought she was the only one of her kind in the world. So to be told there was not one, but two dark fey that existed outside of their world had to be an anomaly to them.

She glanced to the elders, all six of them standing off to the right, and noted with interest that they didn't seem distressed at all. Their faces were serious, wings tucked in tight and tense. She and Borra would have to speak with them later, in private and away from the rest to hear their thoughts.

"Just one more crime the human queen has committed against our kind, when will it end? What about our fallen males and females, who gave their lives in the battle?" There was a chorus of chest thumps, the fey loudly voicing their agreements. Maleficent searched the crowd for the speaker, and saw a male standing indignantly, half of his long red hair braided away from his angular face. His mouth was twisted into a snarl, sharp teeth on display and dark grey wings streaked with reddish-gold feathers flared in a defensive posture.

Her mind sorted through each of the clans, and recognized him as Prythe, one of Vulken's advisors.

Of course. His stature was much like Diaval's in his human form, tall with lean muscles. Shrike shot him an irritated look from nearby, and said,"The Lady Phoenix already said she is finding a way to reverse what had been done to the fey and fairies of the Moors. You were there when she told us, or are you conveniently ignoring the part of that horrible day so you can rile everyone up for another war?" Her sharp words were edged with intent, aquamarine eyes narrowed to slits at the now fuming male before her. The dislike between the two was obvious, and Vulken's meaty hand on Prythe's shoulder was the only warning stopping the visibly outraged fey from leaping at her.

Maleficent slammed her staff down on the ground, and the wave of power it released casted the fey in front of her in a green glow as it washed over them, casting the room in it as well. They had to scramble to anchor their feet to the surface, wings tucked in tight to avoid parachuting themselves into the walls. Some weren't as lucky, and they hit the cavern walls hard, each landing with a loud thud, Prythe amongst them. His groan could be heard all the way from the back of the room.

Borra turned to look at her, an incredulous expression on his face. She shrugged.

"Enough." There was power behind the word, echoing through the cave, and chasing into the tunnels leading to it. Her patience had run out long ago, and she could feel a pounding behind her right eye as she glared at the now steadied group before her.

This is what Borra and her were trying to avoid. The peaceful alliance was brand new and already hanging by a thread, and it must work both ways in order to live amongst each other in harmony. She told them as much, and watched as they bowed their horned heads in shame or reverence. Prythe glared at her from his still prone position on the floor.

Watch that one, her magic seemed to convey, and she couldn't agree more. Borra had warned her that there were going to be some fey who wouldn't be happy with the alliance, no matter how beneficial to the Island. She was starting to see it now, starting with this fire-haired dipshit.

She hadn't even been able to think about the complicated problem of whatever that red dust had done to the magical fey. Hadn't had the time. Now she realized she was in for many headache induced days ahead of trying to figure out how to undo it, if it could be done at all.

She internally groaned.

"The former Queen Ingrith has a trial set for her crimes, as agreed between your leaders and King Phillip and Queen Aurora. That is all you need to know at the moment, and if anything changes you will be informed swiftly. Now, I do believe the reason we called you here was to speak further about the possibility of relocating our people, as some of you mentioned. Let's talk about our options with open minds; everyone's thoughts and opinions will be heard."

She summoned two large wing-friendly chairs for her and Borra, cushioned and comfortable for what was no doubt a long meeting. Once they sat down, Borra kicked a lazy foot up and over an arm rest and rested his elbow on the other, hand supporting his head. He was the picture of a bored king, Maleficent thought with a huff of laughter.

She crossed a leg over the other, and vanished her staff, setting her slender hands on both arm rests. Blood red lips curling into a signature smirk, the Phoenix watched as all eyes fixated on her.

"Let's begin."

* * *

  
"That was awful. And we really have to keep holding these meetings? They never shut up, and my headache still hasn't gone away."

Borra barked out a laugh, way too amused at Maleficent's complaining. "We're the leaders," he replied, "We can hold them whenever or wherever we want. It was actually Conall that preferred to hold meetings in the caves. Always said they were where our ancestors used to gather."

She felt a pang in her chest at hearing the name, remembering the male's kindness and sacrifice. Borra frowned, most likely missing his friend and previous co-leader. The losses they'd suffered were still fresh. She glanced to him. He was a stubborn male, and prideful too from what she'd witnessed so far, but she knew that he cherished the friendship he'd had with Conall, regardless of their differing opinions on the humans.

It must be strange, leading the dark fey now with her, who was still new and learning the ways of their people, rather than with the dark skinned male.

She looked away.

They banked to the left to let a group of young feylings fly passed them, and she smiled as their small wings had to double the effort to catch up to the older of the group.

After adjourning the meeting, she and Borra wasted no time in taking to the skies, anxious to find out what the healers know or if the female had awakened. They sailed over the jungle, and Maleficent's eyes tracked a pair of fey further below them, fascinated by their wings , a colorful burst in their beautiful patterns. No two fey wing's were created the same, she'd noticed.

Borra's own dark wings were a stark contrast to her night black, but they gleamed all the same as the feathers caught the light in the sun. His were a dark charcoal on the outside, with a stray few feathers fading to a dark gold at the ends. When his wings were flared wide, the insides were similar to those of a hawk's, a vast array of shades of reds, browns, white, and grey.

Borra's sudden voice startled her out of her thoughts. "You did a good job, all things considered. I know we're a little rough, and some of the fey can be assholes when they're concerned-" she snorted at that,"-but they mean well. And they listen to you, even if you're not as confident as I know you pretend to be." She opened her mouth to make a retort, but quickly closed it at his smug expression. He was right. She was so used to the Moors and their inhabitants that she'd grown up with since infancy, that it was a hard adjustment to this new world she'd been thrust into. But it didn't seem to bother them one bit, especially after the battle.

They'd chosen her, and now she was their leader.

No other words were exchanged as they sailed closer to the Healer's Den. Based on the name, she'd originally assumed it was some sort of in-ground dwelling where the healers worked. She couldn't have been more wrong. Instead, it was really a large cleared meadow, just near the border of the Forest territory, where small wooden cabins were set in a neat circle just along the edges of the copse of large trees surrounding them. She could see the smoke rising from their chimneys the closer they got, the scent of herbs and pine wafting to them on a breeze.

Finally arriving, their feet touched down onto the grassy earth, wings tucking against themselves as they made their way towards the larger cabin sitting in the middle of everything, belonging to Mapona, the head healer.

A few few healers and their assistants were outside going about their day. Some were gathering herbs from the large gardens set in between cabins for tonics and remedies, plucking the plants they needed and placing them in a woven basket at their hip. Others were collecting fresh water from the running stream nearby, which ran just behind the cabins that backed the Forest and ending well beyond their territory. The ones that weren't so focused on their tasks stopped to nod or say a quick hello, Maleficent and Borra returning them in kind.

She liked it here, the calm and soothing magic the healers used leaving a trace in the air, immediately loosening her tense muscles and putting her at ease. They stepped onto the porch of Mapona's cabin, ducking their horns to avoid the glowing lavender and dried thistlewae hanging from the hooks in the ceiling. Borra made to knock on the wooden door, only to immediately step back so as to avoid being hit with the door being slammed open by a haggard and very irritated Mapona, peering at them with one golden eye, the other a milky white.

"I expected you a long time ago ago," She barked.

Maleficent gave Borra a bewildered glance, not used to the desert fey's short temper. He took it in stride, bending to press a kiss to her cheek and stepping around her, explaining the events of the meeting as he made his way further into the room.

"Well, I suppose that's acceptable," She grumbled, "But I could've used your help with the girl. She's been burning through my stock of dreamless tonics like you wouldn't believe. I've had the girls scrambling to brew more all morning. Not to mention her magic lashes out at anyone who tries to work on her. So far only Deidrae has been successful with her, and I would do it myself but we've been up to the neck in treating the injuries from the battle still, so I've had her confined in Deidrae's cabin while she works on her and what are you still doing standing on my porch, girl? Come inside!"

Maleficent blinked, realizing the rugged healer was in fact speaking to her and that she was indeed still standing in the doorway. She stepped inside, shutting the door behind her and taking in the spacious room.

From the outside, the cabins looked smaller than they really were, charmed with the magic the healers used to create more space for their work and patients. Mapona's cabin held more desks and shelves than the others, hers being the headquarters designated to the head of healers. Cots lined a neat row in towards the back, basins nearby holding water and rags, and treys full of different medicine tonics and tinctures used to aid the healing process stood at each bed side. Afternoon sunlight streamed through the windows, casting the room in a warm glow.

There was a fire lit in the fireplace, a black cauldron filled with something carrying the scent of pine bubbling over it. The room was comfortably cool, not at all affected by the roaring fire, another result of magic, no doubt.

Borra was rummaging through the trinkets and baubles sitting on random scribbled papers on Mapona's dark chestnut desk, plucking up a small jar filled with a sticky black substance and jiggling it around in front of his face. Mapona turned around, as if sensing what the fey male had just grabbed, and took hasty steps to snatch it from his hand, thwacking one of his muscled arms.

"Do not mess with that," she snapped,"It will burn you from the inside out, no doubt. You want melted insides, boy? Try eating your beloved oranges after that." She stepped around her desk, carefully setting the mystery jar in one of her drawers, ignoring his horrified expression.

After a beat, he perked up, "She's in Deidrae's cabin? Has she woken up, then?" Maleficent shook her head watching the scene, amazed at his complete turn around. Obviously this was a common occurrence, the way the two interacted with one another, comfortable in each other's space.

Mapona gave a hearty guffaw, "Oh she woke up, alright. Nearly burned the whole meadow down, that one. We got 'er in time, though, with all our magic helping to put her back under while I poured a dreamless tonic down her throat. Feisty one." Borra's expression turned serious at that, waiting for the healer to continue.

They didn't have to wait long.

"Her wounds were...extensive," she began, "We healed what we could that first night, Deidrae and I. Though there's nothing to be done for her malnourished state. She's severely underweight, but it'll be easier for her to gain it back now that her magic is free again.

'The minor cuts were the easiest, naturally. Though she has a deep wound on her hip that had festered at some point in her captivity. I don't know how old it was, but from looking at it, it was long enough for it to scab over repeatedly. I couldn't tell if her fever was from the fester or the iron. Likely both. Her magic had obviously tried to help it along, but the amount of iron in her system hindered it, so it kept reopening. Speaking of iron..."

She paused, thinking for a moment. "You should sit for this."

Well, that wasn't alarming at all. Still, they did as suggested, with her lowering gracefully into one of the wing-accessible chairs set in front of the desk. Borra plopped heavily next to her, eyes still focused intently on Mapona, who was now seated on the other side facing them.

Mapona sighed, undoing the clip holding up her shoulder length black hair, letting the gossamer strands cascade over her shoulders and massaging the back of her neck. She looked worn, no doubt having been working non stop to heal the fey still injured from the battle and having taken on this case as well.

The dark fey were an immortal species, which meant once they settled into their bodies, their appearance would stay that way forever. Age was in the eyes, in the way they held themselves and the way they yielded the magic born with them. Mapona was one of the oldest amongst her kind. She'd been offered a position among the elders, Borra had explained on their flight back to Ulstead after delivering the female, but she would rather spend her time healing those who needed it and teaching the ways of healing magic to those who had a calling for it.

It didn't mean she wouldn't attend a meeting from time to time, scoffing at the ones who were still young and thought they knew the world.

Maleficent looked at her now, hunched tiredly in her large chair, and wondered what this female had seen in her long life.

"Her wrists were so raw and burned that her bones weren't far from showing themselves," she began, "And her throat was close to irreparable, but thankfully we managed to fix that. It's the internal injuries that startled us." At her words, Maleficent sat straight in her seat, hanging onto every word. Borra was tense at her side.

"The amount of iron we found in her system should have killed her. I believe if it weren't for her magic she would've been dead a long time ago," Her eyes turned to Maleficent then, only one taking her in, and said, "Her magic is not unlike yours."

Yes, they'd thought as much. Her, Borra, and Diaval were the only ones who knew, and now Mapona and who knew however many healers were aware of that fact, as well. "Yes," she whispered.

Mapona nodded, as if confirming an unspoken thought. She didn't look surprised at all. "I searched for any existing entry points myself, but the only conclusion I'd come to was the girl had been force fed the iron-" A hiss escaped Borra, but she continued, "-whether it be laced in the food, or straight iron powder, but she was poisoned deliberately. Most likely to keep her containable." She heaved a heavy breath, shaking her grey horned head.

"I've never seen anything like it in all my years of healing, but now I'm starting to wonder if she's the only one."

The words sat heavy in the air, the only sound in the room was the crackle from the fireplace and the bubbling cauldron. After a moment, Maleficent asked, "Can we see her?" Mapona nodded, already getting up from her seat, and her and Borra followed suit, trailing after her as they exited the cabin, Mapona shutting her door with a wave of her hand over her shoulder.

They walked past a few of the cabins, spotting the occasional fey sitting on a porch step with a limb wrapped tight or mug of something steaming in their hands. Maleficent spared them a small nod or smile as they passed them, and the winged patients seemed to brighten at the recognition from the Phoenix herself.

Borra snorted next to her, and she knocked her wing into his, throwing him off balance. Despite the situation, he righted himself and gave her a mischievous smirk. "What?" He cooed, "They adore you," she was about to snap something witty back to him when they suddenly veered off path, being led down a faintly worn trail just inside the copse of trees by the shorter fey in front of them.

As if sensing her confusion, Borra leaned in to explain lowly, "Deidrae is a specialty healer. Her magic can attune to the distress of certain...situations. She takes on the more serious cases if Mapona can't get to them. Hence the more secluded location. Less stress on patient and healer. Not to mention she's a prodigy, and Mapona's own little sunshine." He said the last part aloud, and Mapona turned her head over a shoulder to roll her eyes at him. He gave an innocent smile.

Once standing in front of the cabin, they watched as she ambled up the porch steps without a word and entered through the door without knocking.

"We're supposed to wait here." He quipped.

Maleficent raised a brow at him, "How do you know so much about this place?" She asked.

"Zorra and I were raised by Mapona since we were feylings." At her inquiring look, he rolled his eyes and elaborated, "One day we were playing by the Forest borders, not yet learned to fly properly, mind you, and Zorra fell from a tree. She broke her fall with her arm, the dumb pixie sniffer, and I had to half carry-half fly her to the Healer's Den. I thought the big wood cabin in the middle was our best bet, and sure enough Map answered the door, saw us, and forced us inside so she could treat Zorra's arm. After some questioning she figured out we were orphans and took us in. The rest is history."

He said this all with a small smile on his face, eyes distant as if reminiscing that fateful day.

Before she could respond, the oaken door of the cabin opened, and Mapona walked out, followed by a tall willowy female who she assumed was Deidrae.

Long honey gold curls fell to her waist, held back by a piece of cloth, and she was dressed comfortably in a soft wool dress, a healer's apron tied over it. She looked exhausted, with dark circles beneath tired brown eyes and she looked paler than she should be, judging by the tanned forearms showing because of the sleeves rolled to her elbows.

It did nothing to detract from her beauty, however. She was a delicate looking fey with her softly curved features and slender sand-colored wings which hinted at desert origins, tucked neatly against her back. Her soft eyes held a certain wisdom, Maleficent noted.

That's why she was taken aback when the female took one look at Borra, who was looking anywhere but at the two standing on the porch, her brown irises narrowing sharply, and gave a flat, "No." Even her voice was firm, melodic as it was.

It was Mapona's turn to snort, drawing three sets of eyes to her. "Calm down, girl. Borra here isn't going to enter your sacred space," Deidrae scoffed at that,"The mistress is the one who will see our new patient."

At those words, Borra's eyes snapped to her, looking for all the world as if he was going to rebuke that statement, but Mapona held a calloused hand up, cutting him off. "I heard all about how she reacted to you, boy. I really don't want to deal with a destroyed cabin when she wakes to your sorry face again, you hear me? Deidrae will never let me hear the end of it." Deidrae nodded, eyes slowly roving their surroundings till they landed on her.

"Ah, yes. Maleficent, this is Deidrae, my best healer and apprentice. Soon enough she'll be running the whole show around here. Deidrae, I present to you Maleficent, Lady Phoenix and and Guardian of the Moors." Mapona's introduction was short and simple, and she wished it were always so easy.

Deidrae gave a soft, tentative smile, and Maleficent found herself easily returning it, bowing her head slightly in acknowledgment.

"It's an honor to meet you officially, Lady." She said softly, as if too shy to raise her voice much higher.

" Well met, Deidrae. The honor is mine." She replied.

Mapona clapped her hands together, startling all three of them, Deidrae and Borra glowering at her as she walked down the steps, "Well, I'm off now. More work to be done, and even more to heal," she paused by Borra, reaching up to clap him on the shoulder, "You stay put. Sit on the steps or conjure a log for all I care, but don't step foot in that cabin, you hear?"

It was almost comical watching her give orders to Borra, a fey warrior who dwarfed her smaller stature, but he nodded nonetheless, still looking put out with her.

With that, she sauntered off back the way they came through the trail back to the Healer's Den. Borra hesitantly followed Maleficent when she slowly started up the steps, stopping at the first one and planting himself there, shifting his wings to get comfortable.

Deidrae sneered at him, her ire stoked at seeing him sitting there in front of her workplace, before turning back to Maleficent and doing a complete turnaround, giving a sheepish smile and wringing her slender hands.

Oh, she had to hear the story behind this one, and what Borra did to piss her off.

Deidrae gestured to the door, "I was telling Mapona that she woke up late this morning. She was a little out of sorts but much better than how you left her. She was wary, and probably would have attempted something had I not started explaining right away. She might be awake soon, what with the way she burns through our potions, so I just thought you should know..." She looked unsure, as if she felt like she'd spoken too much, but Maleficent was grateful to her.

She took pity on her. "I'm sure you've done a splendid job, Deidrae. Mapona gave you many praises," Borra snorted at her words from his perch, and both females glared at him, but his back was turned to them and didn't see, too busy studying the wrappings on his bicep where he'd been shot with an iron bullet. They looked back to one another, and she continued, "Is Diaval still here?"

Deidrae brightened, "Oh, yes! I'd almost forgotten. He's been with me the whole time. When she woke up he was outside on the roof, but he came back in once she was asleep again."

Huh.

She'd asked Diaval to stay and keep an eye on the unconscious female in his raven form, and he'd readily agreed, eager to do nothing but sit and watch for once. She hadn't heard from him since yesterday, so she was surprised to hear that he was still here.

Eyes roaming every inch of the door, as if she could see through it into the very room she was about to step into, she murmured, "Very well. Thank you for all you've done. Mapona told me you'd been up all night with her, so know that it is very much appreciated. If you wish to rest now I can watch over her for a while." The healer took in the words with a bashful smile, her complexion flushed pink.

They said their goodbyes, and she watched as Deidrae exited the stairs, going way around the still sitting Borra to avoid brushing up against him, and used the same trail that they and Mapona traveled.

Maleficent sighed, exhaling heavily through her nose. She wondered what she was about to walk into, and whether the female would be cooperative or coherent. She'd really hoped she wouldn't have to restrain anyone today, especially at the meeting earlier.

Vanishing her staff and smoothing her wind blown hair, she tried to appear as un-intimidating as possible.

At least Diaval would be with her.

After another moment of mentally gearing herself, she unhooked the door latch, opened the door, and took a step into the room.

She knew it was a possibility, to be expected even, from what the healers had told her, but her heart still gave a jump when her eyes landed on the sole fey occupant in the room, already awake and sitting up on the only cot in Deidrae's cabin.

And staring right at Maleficent with the same gold-green eyes.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> No one:  
Maleficent:don't be rude I'm talking
> 
> I realized Borra's eyes are bronze-colored, not green. So I fixed it.


	4. It Haunts Us All

_Severyn_

The darkness lulled her, whispering sweet nothings and cradling her broken body in its clawed grasp when the pain became too much.

They drifted in the abyss, the darkness never letting go, as if afraid they'd be separated once she woke up again. _Don't be afraid_, she wanted to say, _you're with me always. I feel you. _

But every time Severyn opened her mouth to speak, nothing came out. Her lips formed the words, desperate, yet it always resulted in nothing.

The pain was unending. Sometimes it felt as if she would ignite, and light up this entire abyss, unveiling the one who'd held her through it all. She'd only heard its voice, felt it's comforting presence in this private in-between of theirs.

Shielding her from the nightmares.

When those moments reared, and the pain reached its peak, she felt hands. Not the ones of this darkness of hers, no, but hands that soothed. Healed. She jolted, unused to such gentleness in the physical realm. It'd been so long since she was touched in such a way that didn't harm her.

She felt her magic faintly stir, as if preparing to lash out. Before she could rein it in, for it'd been _so long _since she'd properly felt her magic, it released itself in a short burst throughout the room she was in. The firm grip the darkness had on her body disappeared, and she floated.

Her ears could pick up on distant cursing, and it felt as if she were listening underwater, the sounds garbled and faded around the edges. More hands were on her now, these rougher and holding her shoulders down. Before she could begin to physically struggle, still so weak and slow, someone tilted her head back gently, tipping her chin up.

The pair of gentle hands opened her mouth, and before she could clamp her teeth down on any unfortunate fingers there was the familiar feeling of warm liquid _slithering _down her throat and all she could think was _notagainnotagainnotagain-_

She stopped struggling, and sunk into a blissful numbness, now ignorant to the pain gradually fading from her body.

Only this time when she returned back to her sanctuary abyss, the darkness wasn't there to comfort her.

* * *

Wakefulness came slowly.

It was the warmth from the sunlight streaming through a nearby window that awoke her, its rays lighted upon her face and making her bleary eyes squint.

Her mouth tasted sour, and she ran her tongue across the inside of her teeth, picking up the faint trace of some sort of sharp tasting herbs.

Shifting her head slightly to the right to avoid blinding herself once more, she sucked in a sharp breath between her teeth as the small movement pulled at the tightness of her right hip. She slowly moved her hand down to her hip, fingertips feeling around the tightly bound bandages there, and realized her wrist didn't burn as it had before.

She carefully rotated the other one, and her eyes widened when she realized the other wrist was the same. Come to think of it, her entire body shouldn't be feeling as good as it did the last time she was awake.

She froze, the memories flooding her mind. It came back to her all at once, the the trio that had (freed?) her from her chains. The fey male with war painted across his face, the human man that smelled of magic, and the beautiful female that looked so much like her aunt that it was as if she were still alive and standing before her, coming to take her back home.

But that wasn't possible. Her aunt had died a long time ago.

Confused, she lay there for a moment, mentally taking stock of the state of her body. It didn't hurt as much to breathe now, and she assumed her throat was better than it had been, at least. It had to be ravaged, what with the way it felt under her softly prodding fingertips; the skin felt raised, like a freshly roped scar, wrapped completely around the lower half of her throat.

That _fucking_ collar.

"Please don't do that. You'll undo all the hard work I've done." A calm voice rang through the quiet of the room, breaking her out of the dark path her thoughts were taking her, and she jumped hard. The breath was stolen from Severyn's lungs as she tensed from the pain the action had caused her.

Ah, not so healed after all.

Her head, which still rested on the pillow (a _pillow_) whipped to the only sole occupant of the room, gaze narrowing in on the horned female sitting at a desk not far away. She was writing in some sort of journal, her eyes still concentrated on whatever she was jotting down, as if the now-awake-and-very-dangerous female not ten feet from her was of any concern at all. Her sand-colored wings were at rest behind her, the very definition of calm.

Funny, Severyn didn't feel calm at all.

Severyn made to sit up, and as if knowing what she was about to do, the female looked up with her brown eyes and said,"If you're going to sit up, please do so slowly. You're wounds are still very much fresh, and the healers and myself worked all night and morning to stabilize you. You're not in any danger, this room is a safe place for you, but if you wish to look around, feel free to do so."

Severyn blinked, at a loss for words. She sat up slowly, sluggishly, and winced at the pain in her hip and the heaviness of her wings pulling at her back. Suddenly dizzy, she steadied herself with an arm anchored behind her, the other gently resting on the bandages over her injury.

She looked down at it again, noting that whoever had wrapped it had expert hands, and she felt better for it. It didn't feel feverish anymore, just a deep ache, but she'd take it over what it had felt like. She also realized her hair didn't fall forward into her face like it had when she faced the unusual trio, probably making her look wild and unhinged to them. She lifted her free hand to feel behind her head, fingers running over the loose braid someone had taken the time to put there, barely containing her wild locks.

Someone had also taken care to change her clothes, the ratty black shift now replaced with white chest wrappings and what looked to be an ankle length black skirt. It was made with the softest material, a cross somewhere between cotton and silk; picking at it she realized there was a slit reaching all the way up to her hips on both sides, leaving a solid section of cloth to rest between her legs, giving her a modicum of privacy.

It was likely for easy access to her hip for healing, that and it was loose fitting on her body and not interfering in any way with the bandages.

It was strange, being able to do something as simple as lifting a hand without chains weighing it down or hindering your movement. Especially chains made to burn you. She still wasn't used to the weightless feeling of her arms, expecting to see those iron clamps on her wrists every time she looked there.

Suddenly on edge and defensive, her eyes took in everything around her but she was slow to process them, still feeling tired even though she didn't know how long she'd been out for. She took in the room they were in, and realized it was a sort of cabin, wood all around them. Wood on the raised ceiling, dark wood floorboards, the walls, and even lining around the fireplace, a fire lit within it.

_No stone_, her mind whispered.

She relaxed marginally. Wherever they were, it wasn't anywhere near that castle.

As soon as her eyes landed on she fire, she shivered. She hadn't noticed before, too busy trying to comprehend what the hell was going on, but she was _freezing_. It felt like she had dove into a frozen lake with no clothes on.

The female noticed this, and slowly got up from her seat behind the desk. Severyn tensed, nostrils flaring and nails protracting to long sharpened ends, preparing to size up the fey and ready to take her down even though she was weak and injured and it would be _pitiful_ but she had to try, right?

She always tried.

The female stopped short, her empty hands raised to waist height and her palms face up, showing she meant no harm. But how could Severyn know who was her enemy and who wasn't?

When neither moved, she spoke again,"You're going to be cold for a few days more. You had a large amount of iron in your system, that's why you felt boiling heat for so long. I had to withdraw the iron slowly, or you'd feel a lot colder than you do now. I'm going to get you a blanket from the chest near your bed and bring it do you. Can I do that?" Each word was said slowly, making it easier for Severyn's sluggish mind to follow along.

She nodded.

The female then proceeded to move slowly towards the wall near her, to the dark wooden chest carved in patterns of flowers and deer on the lid, and Severyn studied her as she went.

She was pretty, even being as tired as she looked, with her wheat yellow hair tied back with a thin handkerchief, and her brown eyes soft as she cast a look at her while she reached a long slender limb into the chest and pulled out a thick forest green quilt.

She stood up with it in her hands, slowly striding on long legs to where Severyn was seated, and with a flick of her wrists, unfolded it. Still holding it up high so it didn't touch the floor, she gave a questioning look, and Severyn inclined her head slightly, showing acquiescence.

She slowly bent forward, and Severyn caught a faint scent of something both floral and herbal as she carefully draped the soft blanket around Severyn's shoulders, just under the joints of her wings. Severyn blinked sleepily at her, burrowing herself into the warmth and savoring it.

When was the last time she'd had a blanket? A long time before her capture, surely.

"Thank you", her voice came out as a hoarse croak, and she frowned. She'd forgotten what her real voice sounded like, it'd been so long since she'd had an actual conversation with someone. The female gave her a sweet smile, and Severyn thought her male cousins would've fallen in love with this female at the first sight of her.

Thinking of them only hurt her heart, so she cleared her throat and tried again. "How long was I asleep for? And where is this? Are you of the Denai clan?" She took her time asking the questions, her tongue slurring over a few words in her exhaustion, but the female was patient, eyes lowered to Severyn's cot and listening intently.

At the last question, the female raised her eyes to meet Severyn's, a slight furrow in her brow. "May I sit?" She asked, hand gesturing to the space next to her, and Severyn nodded. Seating herself gracefully on the cot, careful not to jostle her patient, she answered as best she could.

"My name is Deidrae. I'm a healer, and I work under the head healer Mapona, who was also one of the ones to help heal you. You were asleep through last night and most of the morning-," that's _it?_,"-but I wasn't sure when you would wake. You're magic is very strong, and we had to give you a dreamless sleep tonic so it wouldn't hinder our progress,-" ah, that explained it,"-but you burned through it quickly. As for this 'Denai Clan'", she had an inquisitive expression on her face,"I'm afraid I do not know of them.

'You are somewhere safe, but I will let you be the judge of that yourself soon enough. Our people are fiercely protective of our kind, and it is secure here on the Dark Island." Severyn watched as Deidrae's hands played with a loose string from her apron, listening as best as she could through the foggy haze.

Severyn's heart sank at Deidrae's unfamiliarity of the Denai, then immediately skipped a beat at her casual reference to their current location.

"Wait," she said,"What do you mean 'Dark Island'? Is that your clan?" Her voice was gradually getting better, the croak in her voice dissipating the more she spoke. But the husky hoarseness remained.

Deidrae looked confused, but answered,"No, not a clan. I'm of the Desert Clan. The Dark Island is where we reside, along with the Tundra, Forest, and Jungle. The cabin we're in is a part of the Healer's Den, which backs into the Forest border. It's the best place to hold it, seeing as it's in the middle of everything."

But she wasn't really listening anymore, her mind kept repeating the words _Dark Island, Desert, Tundra, Forest, Jungle._

It wasn't possible.

If Deidrae was talking about the same Dark Island that Severyn suspected, then things were about to get really complicated. It meant someone had lied to her.

And she was going to be _pissed._

She must have looked it too, because Deidrae was starting to give her a cautious look, her hands now lying still in her lap. Severyn schooled her face into one of composure, then cleared her throat once, then twice.

Very calmly, she asked,"You mean the same Dark Island that was abandoned a long time ago, where the dark fey originated from? That Dark Island?"

Deidrae hesitated, as if she knew her answer could potentially worsen the obvious inner conflict within Severyn, but answered nonetheless.

"Yes. That would be the one."

She grew tunnel vision, black spreading like ink in water along the edges of her vision. She thought she was going to be sick, bending over her knees, still seated next to Deidrae on the cot. Deidrae swiftly ducked out of the way of her horns.

Her heart rate sped up, in panic or rage, or both, she didn't know. All she knew was Deidrae's gentle hand squeezing her forearm, grounding her there, and her voice coaxing her to _breathe in, out, in, out _but it didn't matter. Because someone had _lied _to her and the other fey about the Dark Island lying dormant. Empty of its once inhabitants.

And every life but hers had paid dearly for it.

Dozens of dark fey, massacred because of a lie. A damned trap.

This was bigger than she thought, and the few pieces she had were starting to slot into place.

After long tense moments of Severyn breathing heavily, hand tight over her mouth, and Deidrae patiently rubbing small circles into her forearm, she slowly sat up, mindful of the heavy wings and sore body. Deidrae brought her hand back to herself, and Severyn looked over at her, suddenly so very tired that it was a fight to keep her eyes open.

She didn't know what to say, how to even begin to convey what was on her mind, so she settled on,"I need to speak with your chief. As soon as possible, please." At least she remembered her manners, her mother would be proud of her. She felt another pang.

Deidrae looked like she wanted to say something, but thought better of it. She nodded slowly, and said,"You've met our leaders already, though I'm not sure if you remember. The female with the, well, with the same colored eyes as you, and the male with her." She said this awkwardly, as if not sure how Severyn would take it, and she almost gave a dry laugh. Of _course _ they were.

Her eyes rolled to the heavens, as if the world were playing some sort of cosmic joke on her, and looked back to the healer next to her. She just simply nodded, too tired to do much else.

Sensing her exhaustion and struggle to remain upright, Deidrae stood to help ease her back into a lying position, ever mindful of the wings, and then reached over to a side table Severyn hadn't noticed before. Her deft fingers plucked a thin vial from a grouping of what was likely medicines and tinctures and held it up to the light, showing its purple contents swishing inside.

"A dreamless tonic. This dose isn't as strong, so you can get a few more hours rest before night falls. The lavender helps with the taste and coincides well with the fellenfall extract used to lull you to sleep. It also provides the lovely color. The choice is yours whether to take it or not. Just know it's a guarantee for good sleep." She pulled the tiny cork holding the liquid inside, and passed it over to Severyn.

She took it from her, and studied the contents within the small vial, no longer than a pinkie length. Her magic would've detected anything sinister, and she doubted this healer would've gone through all the trouble of fixing her up only to poison her.

Sitting up with a quick glance to Deidrae, she brought it to her lips, threw her head back, and downed it all.

Deidrae took the now empty vial from her and put it in on of her apron's many pockets, and pulled the quilt back over her, and Severyn relished in the warmth it provided. It felt as if her core would be chilled forever, never to feel that wyldfire again. It was unsettling.

"Rest now, no one will disturb you. I'll be at my desk taking stock of our supplies, so you won't be alone. If you need anything at all, don't hesitate to call for me. When you wake up we can see about getting some food in you, I think your body will be ready by then. We can do some more healing tomorrow, once my magic has replenished its stores," she murmured, before heading to the desk and organizing some papers strewn about there.

Her stomach gave a little twist at the mention of food, not yet ready to go down that road, and knowing Deidrae was right. She had to admit, the healer was good at what she did. Her words brought a small shred of comfort to Severyn, who had known nothing but solitude for the past ten years.

She felt a little guilty, seeing Deidrae sitting there at her desk with dark circles under her eyes and her hands a little shaky as she reached for her pen to continue scribbling into that journal. Based on her words and appearance, she must have needed to use a ridiculously large amount to require a replenishing break. Or she was just that good.

Severyn mused all of this as she drifted into that numb slumber again, and her last thought before unconsciousness was Deidrae hadn't even asked for her name, and Severyn never gave it.

*  
The next time she woke, it was to two sets of voices in the room, speaking quietly.

She kept her eyes closed and breathing pattern the same, ears picking up the noise of their footsteps fading as they exited the cabin quietly, and she recognized one of the voices to be Deidrae. She didn't know who the other's voice belonged to, but if she'd heard it before from her original arrival here, she didn't remember.

She slowly opened her eyes, wakefulness coming easier to her this time around. She sat up slowly, having been asleep on her left side this time and letting the quilt pool in her lap. Once sitting up against the headboard of her cot, situating her wings carefully, she took stock of her surroundings. Late evening sunlight cast the room in a warm glow, and she noticed thankfully that the fire was still going, only this time there was a pot of something that smelled herbal heating over it.

Her magic gave an uncomfortable swoop in her stomach, and for a brief moment she felt an itch. She ignored it.

Her eyes trailed lazily over the aprons hanging from a random hook in the wall, and saw long sticks of plants or flowers hanging upside down from the ceiling of the window nooks or pinned to the walls, likely drying out for use later.

She continued her exploration from the bed until they stopped short on something in the corner farthest from her.

It was a huge black raven, watching her with intelligent eyes from its perch by shelves filled with books and tomes.

She blinked at it, and it cawed.

She glanced to the door, waiting to see if anyone would walk in, but no one came.

Severyn pulled the blanket off of her and set it to the side, and swung her legs gently one at a time over the edge of the cot. The floor was surprisingly warm when her bare feet touched down, and she gripped the edge of the covers, preparing herself to stand.

But before she could make an attempt, the raven cawed again, drawing her attention. The black bird took flight, traveling across the room her way, and she watched curiously as it landed lightly on a large walking stick leaning against the wall right next to her bed, it's wings spread for balance.

Oh, was that for her?

She's pretty sure it wasn't there before, but then again half of what occurred the last time she was awake could have been hallucinations.

As if satisfied that she finally noticed it, the raven leapt from its spot, landing just on the edge of her cot next to her.

"Thanks," she muttered, balancing a hand along the wall to reach a bit for it, fingers finally closing around the stick and bringing it back to her, standing it between her knees to study it.

It was sturdy, and her hand barely fit around its base. It was the same diameter from top to bottom, so it didn't matter which way she used it. The walking stick held a faint trace of magic and looked to be shaped from some sort of fey tree, the color a deep mahogany and a shining finish applied to it to prevent splinters.

"Well, here goes nothing." With another quick glance to the door, and then the raven, she gripped one hand on the edge of the bed, the other on the stick, and heaved herself up.

Dizziness hit full force, and she had to balance herself on the walking stick with both hands to prevent falling backwards onto the bed, her wings heavy weights pulling at her back and shoulders. The skirt brushed against her bare ankles. "Fuck," She hissed, careful not to put too much weight on her right side, her hip and leg smarting painfully.

Deidrae was intuitive, she'd give her that. The healer knew she'd need aid in walking before she did.

The raven cawed lightly, and Severyn's head snapped up when she heard footsteps approach the door. Quickly lowering herself back down onto the bed with another hiss, panting with the effort, she placed the walking stick back against the wall and resumed her previous position, the raven not even moving from its spot on the bed.

She felt it first, before anything else. The silent wave of power that rippled throughout the room; magic making a quiet sweep, as if checking for danger.

Whether it was the threat of danger from her, she wasn't sure. Her magic jerked within her, as if to reach out in answer, and she clamped down hard on it. She didn't have the time to contemplate whatever _that_ was, because the door opened.

It was the beautiful dark fey with the magic like her own, but she already knew that.

She was rendered at a brief loss for words when the female's eyes immediately sought hers, and for a beat they stared at each other in silence.

The fey slowly stepped into the room, softly closing the door behind her, and for the first time in a long time, Severyn didn't know what to do.

Thankfully, she didn't have to do anything, because the raven did. It cawed, loudly, drawing the female's gaze to it. She slowly have a warm grin, white teeth glinting from behind blood red lips, and Severyn wondered at the joy she found there, written on every pane of her angular face.

She wished she had something to smile like that at.

The raven spread his large wings, and took off towards the female, its black feathers glinting in the late afternoon light from the windows.

Severyn watched in fascination as the female flicked her wrist, glowing green wisps of magic shooting from her fingertips and traveling to encircle the raven, and witnessed the bird transform into that of a man.

The very same tall man who was present that day, dressed in black clothing with a handsome pale face framed by night black hair. The _very same _man who just enveloped the female within his embrace, which she easily returned. They looked comfortable with each other, as if they'd been in each other's lives for some time.

"I missed you, Diaval." She heard the female murmur, a serene expression taking over her features, and once again Severyn found herself envious of the peace she saw there. They exchanged a brief yet quiet few sentences, talking lowly, and Severyn started to wonder if she should attempt a quick getaway while she still had the chance.

Before she could convince herself to take that route, the pair turned to her, and the room went silent once more.

This was ridiculous, and awkward, and she felt so out of her depth that she must have still been feeling the effects of all those potions the healers shoved down her throat, because the first thing she said was,"So, you're a raven. That certainly explains why you don't smell like a human."

The man, whom she assumed was the one called Diaval, gave a start, eyes widening as if he didn't expect her to address him directly. His mouth opened, then shut, seemingly not able to come up with a reply. The female smoothly stepped around him and slowly made her way towards Severyn, now looking her over curiously.

"Don't mind him, he always needs a few moments to get his head set right after shifting," she quipped, and a scoff was heard from behind her, as if used to the jibe. She smirked. "I'm going to be outside,"he said to her, or maybe the both of them, what with the way his eyes kept flickering between the two of them.

Then he was gone, closing the door behind him.

Severyn didn't move an inch as the fey drew closer, waiting when she finally stopped a few feet from the cot. "May I pull up a chair?" Her voice was mesmerizing, a smooth, low purr that could bewitch any who listened. It almost made her self conscious of her own hoarse rasp.

She was distantly aware that this was the second time that she was given a choice. She had a choice to turn her away right now, and she was almost sure the female would obey.

But she needed answers, so she nodded her head in acceptance.

Her insides felt strange, as if an idle claw ran itself up her middle from the inside. She shifted a bit to get more comfortable, brushing it off.

The female gave a slight smile, eyes not leaving hers as she conjured a small cushioned chair from nowhere and sat down, making herself comfortable. Severyn watched as she rearranged her brown dress robes to allow her legs ample room, and let her large black wings rest over the back of the chair.

Wings not unlike her own midnight black.

They sat there like that for a long moment, the female in her chair and Severyn sitting on the edge of her cot, her bare feet just barely brushing the floor, watching each other.

She suddenly felt nervous, and worked to temper her magic, feeling it try to push its way out as if eager to greet the fey's own. It made her curious, if not a little cautious, that her magic was so determined to greet this female. It was usually as defensive and wary like she was, always ready to rise to defense and meet danger with its green hellfire.

So this was a new anomaly, just another thing to stack on top of her ever growing list of mysteries.

"How are you feeling?" The fey's eyes danced over Severyn's body, taking in her appearance and visible injuries. They didn't stay on her for long, for which Severyn was grateful, only lingering the longest upon her wrapped hip and her throat, where she assumed an angry scar claimed its permanent residence.

"Better." She rasped. The fey's brow furrowed, as if bothered by the quality of Severyn's voice. She tried not to bristle at the pity she found in the female's eyes, unused to such sympathy.

These people, whoever they were, had done nothing but heal and shelter her, and the least she could do was give them the benefit of the doubt, no matter how much she'd been shit on by others of their kind.

One thing she could positively claim, they were a _far cry _from the previous dark fey she'd come across.

The female cleared her throat, resting her pale hands over a knee and inclined her head, her black horns shining from the light with the movement. "I am Maleficent," she began, and Severyn's heart stopped,"I am one of the leaders here, and guardian of The Moors. And also one of the ones to bring you here."

Severyn knew that name. She _knew _it.

Knew it since she was old enough to remember the stories her mother had told her of her aunt and uncle who lived far away. Always with a sad smile and distant look in her eyes.

And the beloved little girl borne by them, who'd barely had the chance to live, killed alongside her parents by the humans that hated them so.

Her name had been Maleficent.

It couldn't have been a coincidence, this female sitting before her, carrying the same name of her long dead cousin and bearing a striking resemblance to an aunt she never got to meet.

She could never forget the memories her mother used to share with her through their magic. Memories of two sisters that did everything together, playing in the woods and creating animals with their magic so similar to Severyn's own. They were inseparable, until Severyn's aunt met her future mate and husband, Lysander. Severyn saw it all through her mother's eyes.

How she was present for the union of her sister and now brother-by-marriage, as was the customs of his people.

Happy to gain a new brother, of course, but heartbroken to lose a sister to a new home far away. Her best friend.

Her mother had met her little niece only once, visiting there for the christening of the child by the land itself, as was tradition amongst their kind. She'd not yet had Severyn, only a few years away from becoming a mother herself.

She'd seen the love between the new family, the way the Moors' folk, their subjects, adored them.

How she wept when she'd heard the news of their deaths.

Severyn doesn't think her mother ever recovered from it, losing the other half of her soul.

If only she'd known that her little niece had lived, Severyn wondered how things might've been.

Severyn was sure this was her long thought dead older cousin before her. She felt it in her heart, the magic in her veins, as if it was trying to tell her all along.

But she wouldn't say anything, not until she had the confirmation she needed. Besides, she didn't even know where in the hell she was yet, regardless of Deidrae's previous answer.

Unaware of the thoughts running while in her head, Maleficent continued,"We brought you from the palace at Ulstead and carried you here, well, Borra did. I'm not sure if you remember. You've been unconscious till this morning, I've been told." Her eyes never wavered from Severyn's, and she wondered what she saw there.

Severyn nodded, and rasped,"I remember. You and that brute of a male."

Maleficent gave a small huff of laughter. "Yes, that's right. Though your introduction was far from a gratifying one, I'm afraid you were given poor impressions of who we are. Borra's a good male. Rough and crude, also yes, but he cares about his people. He looked more intimidating that day because of the-" she gestured to her face, and Severyn gave a nod when she realized she meant the war paint,"but that's because of the battle that occurred."

"What happened?" She asked, still unclear as to the events resulting in her rescue. She scowled at the word. She'd never needed rescuing, as she'd been the one to always take care of herself since her clan's demise. She's only had herself for the last twenty-seven years.

Maleficent leaned back in her seat, eyes trailing to the side as if thinking how to answer. When she seemed to find one, her eyes met hers again. "The queen who held you prisoner waged a war on the fairies. The dark fey came to aid the Moor folk and fight the humans. We won, and it ended in her imprisonment and the ascension of her son and only heir, Phillip, as the new King of Ulstead.

'He is a kind and fair human. Him and his queen are currently working on a peace treaty with us. There will be no more fighting, only harmony between the realms." She summarized the last part with meaning, as if she were afraid Severyn would get up right this instant and retaliate in revenge for all that had been done to her.

She snorted, as if she could even fly right now, let alone walk out the door without the blasted walking stick.

Her thoughts were rampant, overwhelmed with the influx of information the female had given her.

So the bitch was still alive, and not a casualty in the aforementioned battle.

She didn't know how to feel about that piece of information. She wanted to rage at the thought of that human being aloud to live while so many of her kind had died. Another part of her wanted to fly by any means necessary to her location and light her with wildfyre to show her what it feels like to _burn_.

A small part of her wanted to wail at the world at the unfairness of it all.

But her mind was curiously blank, like her soul was floating over her numb body and watching this scene play out from above.

When the darkness had taken her nightmares away, had it stolen her rage, too? Her despair?

Maybe her magic was gathering it all as it tried to release itself, storing it in some little vial like that dreamless potion, tucking it away in some invisible pocket to be opened later.

Maybe this could be seen as a good thing, because she had words for the horrid harpy. She wondered if she would be permitted to see her, wherever she was, once she was well enough.

If not, she'd find a way.

"And me? How did you find me?" She asked. Her body was still, and mind still trying to catch up on everything that seemed to be happening at once. She could feel a headache coming on.

Maleficent hesitated, as if unsure how to answer.

Finally, she spoke. "There was a pixie," she began,"He was under the employment of Queen Ingrith, and was tasked with experimenting on the fairies to find a way to be rid of them forever," she tapped a long nail on an armrest, and Severyn was silent,"He was under a spell casted by a cursed spindle. I'm still working on finding out how she came to be in possession of such an artifact, but the queen made him believe he were a human nobleman. She even had his wings ripped off." Her eyes met Severyn's own horrified ones, and nodded in confirmation.

"He led us to you. He told us he remembered what had happened, and that you were forced into iron chains, held captive by the queen. He was quite frantic, actually. And looked very guilty." She concluded with a sigh.

Severyn didn't know how to respond. Yes, she remembered a small figure, always caving in on himself, as if to appear smaller than he already was. Hiding behind a corner as Ingrith would enter the small dungeon she was kept in. Never present for their interactions, but most likely listening behind the closed door.

As she hissed and spit at the queen. Screamed when the burning was particularly gruesome that day. Some days she was completely silent, too weak and numb to do much else.

"I remember." Was all she said. She remembered everything.

Maleficent dropped her gaze then, eyes falling to the floor between them.

"How many leaders are there here?" She asked, and the female's eyes jumped back to her.

"Only Borra and I. He's been a leader long before I, though he's more of a war commander and dispute settler amongst the fey."

Well, that certainly made sense. She'd only seen the male the one time, but in that moment he'd looked fearless, someone who'd lead an army with confidence.

And she'd smashed his face with her elbow. She winced thinking about it, the resounding _crack_ and his teeth being slammed together. She didn't regret it, since she'd done it not knowing if she'd been handed back to those beasts. She sees now that they're different, whatever clan that hosted her now. Oh skies, she wondered if she should expect retaliation from the male, or punishment considering he was a leader.

Her body gave a shudder, and she picked the blanket up from her lap, carefully pulling it back around her shoulders, just under her wings. Maleficent noticed this, and brows furrowed, asked,"You're cold? Shall I get more blankets?"

Just as she made to get up, Severyn stopped her. "No," she murmured, "it's alright. Deidrae said my body will be colder than it should be for a while. When she drew the iron out of me, it sort of..._shocked _my system. I'd been burning for so long.." She trailed off. Maleficent sat back in her seat with a small nod, brows still furrowed, pondering those words.

It was awkward again, and Severyn cursed her lack of social skills, not having an actual conversation in so long. Exchanging insults with Queen Ingrith and her guards didn't count, not by a long shot.

So she observed the female sitting in front of her.

She watched as her hands ran idly along the seams of her fine gown as she seemed to be thinking hard on something, and Severyn thought it strange, a dark fey wearing fine robes such as these. She'd seen all manners of clothing worn by their kind, from leathers to cotton trousers and wrappings not unlike the ones she wore now, but this was a first.

_It suited her_, she thought. The way the dress cut low across her shoulders, and how it gathered at her trim waist when she had walked towards Severyn's cot, the rest trailing behind her. The brown fabric glimmered in the rays of light coming from outside, and Severyn thought it made her look regal, especially with the way Maleficent had styled her long brown hair, pulled away from her face at the temples and tied back.

She looked like a queen.

Looking at her now, Severyn noticed she didn't visibly carry any weapons. No blade at her side, or even a spear like she'd seen some clans wield. Maybe her magic was all she needed. It made Severyn think of her own weapons, and her beloved sword gifted to her by her father. All confiscated by the ones who'd stripped her of her weapons and dignity, before handing her to the humans. It hurt to think about it.

She still didn't understand any of it, why they hadn't just killed her like the others.

But she'd get her weapons back, she'd make sure of it. Once she's better she'll track those bastards down and claim them back from their dead bodies, even if she had to hunt them to the edge of the world. No matter how long it took.

Come to think of it, while she may not be able to have her weapons, she did arrive at the castle with something else...

"Did you grab any of my things, by chance?" She asked suddenly, and Maleficent's head snapped up, caught off guard by the sudden question. She contemplated the words, before shaking her head a little. "No," she answered, and Severyn deflated a little,"but we can have someone go back and look for them, whatever it is you need."

"My clothes and boots," Severyn whispered,"and an arm band, it was my mother's." The arm band was the crucial piece. If it was lost to her forever, she didn't know what she'd do.

Maleficent gave a reassuring nod,"I'll have you write down the description of these objects soon, and I'll see to it personally that someone will be sent for them."

"Thank you." Severyn swallowed, now rendered silent by the _kindness _on this female's face, reflected in her eyes. _Her aunt's eyes. Her mother's eyes. Her own eyes, _her mind whispered. _Later_, she told herself.

It was silent again, and Severyn couldn't ignore the giant tree-warrior in the room any longer. She knew Maleficent wanted to ask what happened, but was unsure of how to even start without potentially upsetting her. It was written in her hesitant expression, the uneasy set of her shoulders and hands. It was because of this that Severyn decided to save her the trouble and address it.

But before she did, she needed to know. "So," she began,"you're wondering how I came to be in this position. To be honest, I'm trying to figure out how to even start. But before I do, should the other leader be present to hear this, as well?"

This made Maleficent blink, then shift uncomfortably, giving Severyn the impression that she was holding out on something. "Borra's already outside," she said sheepishly, and Severyn's head whipped towards the door, as if anticipating him barging through right at that moment. "He wasn't going to come in!" She hastened to add, catching Severyn's no doubt nervous expression,"I made him wait outside while I spoke to you, considering your initial reaction to him, which was understandable, all things considered. He understands why you hit him, and he doesn't hold it against you. He just didn't want you to be even more uncomfortable than you already are..." She trailed off, and Severyn got the distinct impression that she was usually more confident than this. She snorted, _that makes two of us. _

But Maleficent wasn't finished. "But you don't have to tell him anything,"she said,"If you'd rather tell only me, that's fine. And if decide not to say anything at all, that's also fine. But I need some idea of what's going on, and If I need to protect my people from another threat." Her eyes were intense, boring into Severyn's, and she gave her a relenting nod.

She pondered what to say, biting the inside of her cheek in thought. Suddenly, she had an idea. "I can show you," she said, and Maleficent lifted a fine brow,"if you'll allow me, I can show you what happened with our magic."

Maleficent seemed to consider it, and Severyn felt relief when she agreed,"That might actually be easier. I'll need to sit next to you, and be touching you in order for it to be successful."

Severyn gave her assent, and Maleficent got up from her seat and moved to the cot, seating herself gracefully next to her, large wings tucked in so as to not take up room. She slowly reached out a pale, slender hand, palm up, and Severyn absently noted how her nails were protracted, and that perhaps she preferred them that way.

Severyn lifted her own shaky hand, and placed it in hers. Maleficent's hand was warm against Severyn's cold one, and she closed her hand around hers in a firm yet gentle grip. Her magic stirred in excitement, both at the female sitting next to her and the prospect of being used for the first time in a decade.

"Relax," Maleficent murmured.

Closing her eyes, Severyn concentrated, and she gently allowed a thin green glowing string of magic to enter the mental link Maleficent had opened, using it as a passageway into her mind. Once it was halfway there, Maleficent reached her own magic out and gently grasped it with her own green string, twining them together.

The reaction was instantaneous, and Severyn felt every hair on her body stand on end as a huge wave of power pulsed throughout the room. Maleficent gave a small shudder from beside her, and Severyn knew she felt it, too. Her magic came alive inside her, delighted and eager to do her bidding, and so very desperate to be released.

She had to work hard to temper it in order to do what she needed, and she wondered if the fey sitting next to her had to do the same.

A chilled bead of sweat rolled down her temple, and she focused on where she wanted to take this. With a thought and a squeeze of her hand, Severyn completed the transaction.

A few seconds later, they opened their eyes. Everything was pitched in darkness, save for themselves and the cot they sat upon. Maleficent opened her mouth, but before she could speak, Severyn lifted a finger, and suddenly the past was before them in a whirl of color and movement. It was as if they were looking in on someone else's life, watching silent and still as Severyn's history replayed itself.

Only now there was someone else to watch it with her.

"Watch,"Severyn whispered. So they did.

They watched as a small Severyn played with her cousins and clan-mates, only feylings as they play fought in the streams and forests of their current campsite. The way her mother's eyes crinkled in laughter as she watched their antics and cheering on as her daughter tackled the biggest into the water with a splash.

The way her father pushed her in training, unrelenting in his drills and watching with stern eyes as she bruised and ached with every blow that a cousin or fellow warrior-in-training landed on her small body. Their relationship was strained in those moments, with her failing to understand why her father was so much _harder_ on her than the rest. He never explained it every time she asked or complained, just ruffled her hair with a large hand and told her to _go again_ or _sword __arm up._

She understood it now, why he was tougher on her than her older cousins and warriors. She knew deep down that he knew there would soon come a day where there wouldn't be anyone to protect her anymore, so he started her training younger than the rest. While Severyn was busy with flying and fighting drills, the other feylings were just starting to spread their wings and begin to take flight from the higher trees.

They saw her mother, so young and beautiful as she created little forest animals with her magic, _their magic_, as a small Severyn watched in fascination and joy. These moments with her mother were cherished, and Severyn had played them over and over in her mind every day that she was locked away so that she would never forget her face. From the slight bow of her smiling red lips, to the green-gold eyes so like her own, a family trait, she'd learned. And the long, dark red unruly curls she always kept in a loose braid, with charcoal wings that always caught the sunlight _just so,_ revealing golden feathers hidden here and there.

Severyn swallowed as she took her in for a moment, then sped up the timeline.

She stopped at a slightly taller Severyn, no older than fifteen, soaked to the bone and sobbing. She kneeled in the black ash that covered the clearing where her clan had set camp. Her clawed hands curled into the earth, gripping the blackened soil that stuck to her wet skin. Devastation was written in every line of her as she took in the charred remains of her clan, her _family_. Bodies strung everywhere, from tiny younglings to full grown fey, no one spared. She clumsily got up, careful of the newly gifted sword still strapped to her side, and stumbled over to a couple lying further away from the others off to the side, and fell hard on her knees besides them. She didn't feel the impact, only aware of the pain threatening to render her heart in two as she looked at her parents, their wings gone, most likely taken as trophies, and took in their unrecognizable faces. She heaved another sob and lifted a shaking hand to their bodies.

She never took her eyes off of them, even as her fire finished the job, turning them into ash and her eyes followed as their ashes left the smokey clearing on a breeze. Now watching the sky, as if searching to see if their souls made the journey safely to their beloved gods, she set the other bodies around her alight, as well. When she finally got up, not knowing where to go but knowing she had to _move_, she left the clearing alone.

Scenes flashed before the both of them, Maleficent watching on in mute horror and Severyn in stony silence.

They watched as she slowly grew with each scene, surviving the wilds and never staying in one place for long, always on the move. Learning through trial and error to hunt the game the surroundings provided, and figuring out a way to build a small shelter with her magic and the nature around her. Alone and afraid, a small feyling huddling in a cave or lean-to with no clan and an intimidating amount of power residing in such a small body; trying to remember everything her mother had taught her about preventing it from becoming a beacon to someone or something who'd take advantage of it. Always careful to never fly high above the trees, opting to travel by foot most of the time.

Avoiding the small dark fey clans and tribes she came across, watching from a distance and not trusting anyone, covering all traces of her ever being nearby. She knew her bloodline made her special, her parents had stressed to her the importance of it from a young age. She just thought it was because of how different her magic was from the rest of the clan, like her mother. She didn't know what the other fey would do once they discovered just how different it really was.

Bathing in cold streams and rivers, and always going through her drills just before dawn, just like her father taught her. Eventually, she stopped growing, and soft baby fat gave away to reveal the sharp, attractive features set into a serious face, and wings finally large and strong enough to take her anywhere.

Her body finally settled at twenty-five. Settling was excruciating, and seemed un-ending once it began. It was the body's way of deciding when it was ready to freeze itself in time for eternity, and a fey became a true immortal. The length of time one had to endure a settle depended on the amount of magic one carried within.

Whereas a normal fey's settle lasted about a week, hers lasted three.

Fevered and every nerve set ablaze, Severyn stumbled through the forest, delirious and sweating and begging for the gods to _Take her now_. Unaware of what was happening to her body, having been too young to understand when her parents had been alive. That's how the Rontal clan found her, only two weeks into her settling, laying on the forest floor, mumbling to the midnight sky above her and hands gripping the forest leaves beneath her.

Severyn sped up the scenes again, and Maleficent caught flashes of the clan nursing her to health, helping her through that last week of hell. Severyn staying with them for a time, providing meat and protection for them before they, too, met their demise while Severyn was away scouting. They weren't burned away like her clan, but riddled with iron bullets and a few bodies cleaved by iron weapons. Wings severed and missing. _Humans._

They saw Severyn alone again, this time hunting down the ones responsible, and finding tracks leading to a group of men sitting around a fire, large sacks of wings placed in a wagon nearby, no doubt to be sold for a large profit on the black market. She'd heard the whispers of those who passed through the forests, listening as they described the rumors of human poachers, and how they stripped the dark fey they hunted of their horns and wings. Selling them for big coin.

She killed for the first time that night, not sparing a single one even as they begged and wailed for mercy. She'd been in a red haze, as if getting revenge for the clan that'd treated her so kindly and the clan that's she'd been borne to would fill the emptiness inside of her. Once it was over and she walked away from the bloody scene, those fey wings turned to ash, never to be touched again, and headless bodies lying besides each other, human heads staked along the dirt path, blocking passage to anyone, she realized it didn't matter. It didn't matter how many humans or enemies she killed, because her clan was _dead_ and never coming back.

She knew that if she allowed herself to feel even a little bit, she'd feel too much all at once, like a dam splitting open and flooding all of her. She couldn't deal with the grief yet, not when she had this world to survive and this power inside of her that she had yet to understand. So she pushed on.

Severyn skipped over a few scenes, all of them showing her traveling far and wide, listening for rumors and hunting down poachers and trespassers as she went ,discarding them all. Hopefully saving another life.

Scenes sped up and became colorful flashes in front of them, until she suddenly stopped at the one that changed everything.

There was a new kind of threat terrorizing the land she was currently in. She'd only been here a few days, but it didn't take long for word to reach her. She'd heard rumors of a group of dark fey hunting their own kind, killing in a gruesome fashion and leaving the bodies for others to come across. Some said it was a message of some kind, yet no one could figure out what it meant to convey just yet. Others claimed the fey were mad, gone insane from some form of dark magic that twisted their insides and turned them into beasts. That one intrigued her the most. With that, she began her search.

What kind of dark fey turned on their own kind? It was unheard of, especially with the way her kind were slowly dying out, day by day. Traitorous bastards, that's what.

She'd tracked them for weeks, always careful not to leave any traces behind, sometimes catching glimpses of the group of dark fey through the trees she camouflaged herself in, always in the dead of night. They were strange, speaking in a harsh sounding language and jerky in their mannerisms. Sometimes they fought amongst each other, easily set off by a look or insult from one of their clan mates, which sometimes resulted in the vicious death of the offending group member. Her magic would flare inside her when she would get too close, warning her to _get away_ from these creatures.

She could smell the _wrongness_ of them, something rotting black and vile twisted so deeply from within. Severyn realized all of the rumors were true after witnessing the carnage they'd leave in a trail of blood and feathers. The scenes were always the same. Some small, unfortunate band of fey falling victim to these beasts. Bodies mutilated, cut from naval to chin, or a few missing a horn or wing. Wild patterns, as if they didn't know how they wanted to kill them in that moment. Most of them were female. But every victim had one thing in common. Their eyes were plucked from their sockets, leaving gaping holes for Severyn to see as she picked her way through the carnage, careful not to disturb anything in case the fey came back.

In continued like this for a few weeks, Severyn finding the aftermath of their work, taking in every gruesome murder, all the while staying way out of their path and staying hidden. Eventually they crossed into another border, this land darker somehow, with less forests and a lot more rocky outcroppings. The sun never seemed bright here, hidden behind the dark clouds that covered this place. Her magic recoiled the entire time she was there, but she pushed on, needing to know what was happening.

Every instinct screamed at her to not engage them, her magic trying to steer her away from this land and these dark fey, yet she continued to watch them, studying their patterns and dynamics with each other.

One day she made a crucial mistake.

She'd been camped near a smaller outcropping, hidden by dense foliage and trees only a few miles just to the west of where the dark fey were. She'd started hearing whispers on the wind, not from the direction of the fey camp, but coming from further north, where the dark mountains lay.

Something had called to her then, and unable to find it within herself to turn away, she left her camp to go find it, flying while still managing to stay out of sight of the fey camp. It took her to the northern mountains, and when she ended up on top of the largest mountain, covered in black asphalt, it was as if she'd awoken from a trance. The air was denser here, and Severyn was so high up she could almost touch the black and grey clouds circling above.

"What is that place?" Maleficent asked quietly, and Severyn had almost forgotten she was there what with how quiet she'd been up till now.

"I don't know," She whispered back.

It was strange, watching herself from her place next to Maleficent, as if it were someone else's life playing out in front of their eyes and not her own.

They watched as past-Severyn looked around her, taking in the way the top of the mountain she'd landed upon seemed flatter than it should have been. It looked as if something had carved a large circle into the surface, and she realized with a start that she was standing right in the center of it.

Quickly flaring her wings, she shot a couple of feet into the cloudy sky. Looking down from her new position in the air, she saw it wasn't just a circle she was standing in. Carved inside of the circle were neat lines intercepting one another, all ending in nine points just at the edges of the circle. It was a star. The entire thing spanned the length of a fully grown fey's wings spread wide.

Confusion was evident on her face, and present-Severyn remembered as she had gone through all of the possible cultures and clans that would have used this symbol, only to come up empty. She watched herself as she touched back down on the mountain top, outside of the symbol this time, and payed closer attention to what was around her.

Sure enough, and she made a slow turn around her fey eyes noticed more strange symbols carved into some of the rocks rocks imbedded into the mountain, almost like the curving letters of a dead language. She was about to leave this unsettling place when her eyes caught something. There, nestled between a line of smaller rocks on either side, was a path. The closer she got to it, she realized it led off the side of the mountain, sloping downwards out of her sight.

She glanced over her shoulder to look at the symbol in the ground, then back to where the path led off of the mountain. The Severyn of now wanted to shout at her _don't go, turn around and fly to The Moors_, but alas, past Severyn couldn't hear her, and so nothing stopped her from following the asphalt path off the side of the mountain. Asphalt turned to hard, black rock.

It took her down an incline of rocky steps, just wide enough for her to walk without needing to hug the side of the mountain, and after a few moments, she stepped off the last stair and onto a landing of sorts. To the right of her was a steep drop off into the sky, having only traveled down less that half of the mountain height. To the left of her, a cave.

She hadn't felt her magic stir since landing on top of the mountain, but it did light a ball of white fey light for her when she summoned it as she stepped inside the cave. She ventured further in, taking cautious steps to reveal a spacious main room. The air was still here, and the walls so black that she had to make sure she didn't run into them by holding her other hand out. Her light didn't even reflect off the walls, oddly, and the floors were just as dark.

From the smell and dust layering everything, she'd guess it'd been abandoned long ago.

She went deeper, lighting up the room by increasing the light in her palm. There were shelves against the walls to the right, skulls of all kinds lining the tops of them, and dusty leather tomes and jars filled with dark liquids filling the rest. There were a few smaller passageways towards the back right wall, just on the other side of the shelves, and Severyn decided she wasn't about to push her luck and find out where they led to. Her gaze moved forward again.

A large table covered in old papers and spilled ink sat longways against the far wall ahead of her, half obscured in the darkness. She had to move around a rock wall jutting out to get to it, the wall stopping only to the middle of the room. Once she reached the table, she held the light up to it. The table was covered in dirt and dust, and after blowing heavily on the surface, it gave away to reveal a deep mahogany. There were carvings on its surface, more of the same symbols she'd seen outside on the rocks, etched into the wood. There also seemed to be a depiction of some kind, and Severyn squinted.

It sort of looked like a dark fey with long hair obscuring its face, except the wings were shaped different, and lacking feathers. The figure held something in his clawed grasp, and when she bent closer to look, her eyes widened when it looked to be a severed arm.

Standing straight up, her eyes jumped to the papers with scrawled paragraphs, and quickly realized she couldn't read any of it because it was also written in the strange language. There were more papers underneath them, and she swiped the written papers aside to view them. They were drawings.

One paper had the same nine pointed star she'd seen outside, only this one had a symbol drawn at each point making up the star. The paper beneath it revealed a map of some kind, and Severyn's brow furrowed, puzzled at the detailed drawing of every forest, jungle, lake, mountain ridge, and desert that made up the lands and realms.

Unsettled, a chill ran down her spine, and Severyn suddenly had the distinct urge to _get away _from this place and back to her camp. As she whirled around to leave, she saw it.

There, adjacent to the rock wall separating the rooms, hidden behind the wall and being the reason why she didn't see it when she first entered the cave, was a pool of black water. The hair on the back of her neck stood up, yet she could not look away. It was large enough for her to comfortably immerse herself in, wings included, with stone steps descending deep into it's depths at the front of it.

It looked deep, with no bottom to be seen.

She edged closer to it, and once she was close enough to hold the light up to the stagnant water, it was as if every sound ceased to exist in that moment, and all Severyn could do was _see_. She was transfixed, and in those few seconds, she faintly thought she could feel her magic pounding at the walls of her insides, begging to be let out. But everything was muted, so maybe she'd imagined it.

She reached a hand out, inching closer towards the murky depths, and as if in response, she felt more than saw it _pulse_.

The ripple caused the dark water to lap over the sides of the stone, and Severyn swore she felt something standing right behind her, breathing her in. Her magic gave a sudden, harsh jolt.

And she _panicked_.

Extinguishing the light, she took off for the entrance of the cave, the space suddenly too constricting for her wings to try and fly. Her booted feet flew over the stone, getting closer and closer to the overcast light outside, and when she was close enough to reach her hand out and feel it, a large shadow blocked the entrance, suddenly casting her back in darkness.

She couldn't stop herself in time, and her shoulder popped painfully when their bodies collided, the force knocking them both back into the light, landing on the outside landing. The world spun around her for a moment, and she caught herself just as her body rolled to a stop right on the edge of the landing. She looked over her shoulder, and her eyes widened.

The fey male was larger up close than when she had observed him and the rest from the trees, and she watched in horror as his body righted itself from his position on the ground, wings shooting up and steadying him as he rose. Once he was standing did Severyn get a good first look at what she was dealing with.

It was the eyes she noticed right away. Blood orange in color and blackened veins around his eyes, which ran from his temples and traveled over his jaw, down his thick neck, and disappeared into the leather armor he wore across his chest. The male's dark brown hair was tied back and away from his face.

He must have been a descendant of the old forest clans, judging by his chestnut wings and stag pendant around his neck. He had to be thicker than two of her put together, his meaty hands coming to rest on the pommel of his blade, preparing to draw.

He flared his wings, trying to intimidate her, and she noticed there was something shiny running along the ridges at the top of them, running through the feathers and dripping to the ground. It looked like blood, except it was pitch black. Severyn's nostrils flared, and the make gave a feral grin, showing a set of razor sharp teeth. Another oddity, considering normal fey only had sharpened canines.

There was something obviously _wrong _with this male, she'd never felt anything like the dark maliciousness that rolled off of him. It's like he wasn't even from this realm, this _world_.

_Go now_, her magic urged, and she couldn't agree more. But before she could, two more winged shadows appeared from the hazy sky, breaking through the clouds. The figures landed, their feet slamming into the ground just a few feet above them on the rocky pathway. Both looked as equally terrifying as the first one.

They were more members from the camp, and Severyn heard the skinner of the two bark something to the forest fey in that harsh language she'd heard them use. The forest male rumbled something back to him, his eyes never leaving her prone form lying a few feet away. As if he were contemplating something as he appraised her. This was her best chance to get away, while the others were busy talking amongst each other and not all focused on her.

She anchored the knee furthest from the ledge to the ground, doing the same with her palm. Slowly, so as not to alert them all to her movements, she raised the other hand to the large male standing in front of her. Before he could open his big mouth again to warn them, she hurled a blast of wildfyre his way, and only caught a quick glimpse of the big fucker dodging with uncanny speed towards his companions, before she kicked off with her leg and hurled herself off the mountain.

The next scene showed Severyn flying like the Phoenix herself were on her ass, not even stopping once she crossed the border from those dead lands and back into the heavier forested one. She'd lost them a few leagues back, and her magic hadn't pick up their signatures since then.

She finally stopped the next night in foreign territory, waiting out the night in a hidden cave. Exhaustion had caught up to her, and the Severyn of now cringed as she saw her past self fall asleep after a long fight of trying to stay awake.

She jolted awake to screaming. Not those of terror or fear. But screams of excruciating pain and agony. Severyn and Maleficent watched silently as she hurried out of the cave, wings spread in preparation for a hasty take off. But before her wings could beat, she paused. The screams were continuous, and it sounded like there was more than one that they came from. She warred with herself, part of her wanting to get _far away _from this place and going somewhere more heavily populated, and the other part also wanted to see what sort of fey had fallen victim to these monsters.

They could of been her mother, or the other females of her long dead clan, or _her_.

She snarled, and with a quick once over of her weapons and a tightening of her flying leathers, she took off.

When she landed, it was in a forest clearing covered in blood and sinew. She gagged at the strong scent of blood and rot in the air, and her gaze landed on the scene in front of her. About a dozen bodies were strewn about, as if someone had plucked their bodies like a rag doll and tossed them to land with limbs strung in all awkward positions, a few with their wings ripped clear off.

"By the gods," Maleficent murmured from next to her, and Severyn just squeezed her hand tighter.

They heard as more screams and wails pierced the air, and past-Severyn turned towards the left, where those screams came from just over a hill.

She had dreaded what she'd come across, yet she walked towards the hill anyway, climbing it a little faster when the screams reached their crescendo, then cut off abruptly. Her legs pushed her faster as she finally reached the top, and she stumbled back at what she saw.

She'd never seen the killers in action before, only after the act and only when they were long gone. But to see it happening was another thing altogether. About a hundred feet from her, six of the dark fey creatures were gathered around two females, both obviously derived from the jungle just from looking at their horns. And their equally colorful wings, severed and lying near the dark fey's feet. Past-Severyn saw as they kneeled in the blood soaked earth, the uneven sockets at their shoulder blades spurting blood where the fey had hacked away. They each had their heads pulled back from the grip two males had on their hair, looking on the verge of collapse or death, Severyn wasn't sure.

The large forest male from before looked up, finally noticing her arrival. He smirked, and soon all of the individuals of the clearing were aware of Severyn's presence, save the jungle fey. After a long beat of them all looking at each other, three of them lunged. She was expecting it, and ducked underneath the first male that reached her, coming from the sky, unsheathing her sword and splitting him from the hollow of his throat to his belly. He crash landed behind her, grass and dirt flying in his wake. He tried getting up, but the life left his eyes just as his intestines started spilling out, steam rising with it. Severyn didn't stop to watch him drop back down, her blade already meeting the next fey's.

The clang of their swords rang across the clearing, and Severyn grit her teeth as she braced her legs against the earth, aware of the disadvantage she had against this one, his wings beating pressure into his sword from his place above her. From her peripheral, she could see another one closing in from her side, and she waited a beat, right until he could almost reach her, before she suddenly shoved aside the sword locking her own with her cross guard, putting weight behind the movement. The male hovering over her jolted, knocked off balance, and she lifted a hand and _pulled_.

Her magic answered, and the fey couldn't right himself in time as he was yanked a few feet downwards, and was impaled by the incoming male's sword, right where she was standing.

Severyn flared her wings and shot into the sky, but not before lighting the male before her on fire, his howling and relentless stomping doing nothing to put out the green flames that engulfed his body. He could try, but the flames wouldn't burn out unless she bid them to. Eventually, he stopped screaming and slumped over, and her fire turned his body to ash.

She landed in front of the remaining fey, eying the ones still holding on to the female's heads and the large male from the mountain, watching them with rage invading every cell of her body, her eyes glowing green in her ire.

The forest male just smiled wide, showing off those razor teeth, and raised a meaty hand. Severyn tensed, sword at the ready, and was confused when he simply laughed and in a deep, rough voice, said,"Do you yield, female? Yield, and the female's will be spared." His gaze raked over her, and Severyn bristled.

The ones holding the jungle fey's heads laughed, and one of the females let out a wail. "Shut up!" The male holding her head barked, and he gave a rough shake of her head, causing her empty wing sockets to brush against his legs, making her wail even louder.

Severyn saw red, but before she could set him ablaze, too, the forest male swiped his hand through the air, and the dark fey holding the wailing female's head whipped out a dagger, and slit her throat.

Severyn stood shocked, her eyes slowly traveling to meet the large forest fey's own as the female behind him fell to her side, choking on her own blood. He smirked, and asked once more,"Do you yield?"

The only sounds in the clearing were her own heavy breathing and the other kneeling female's, and the sound of the dying female struggling for intake of air. Severyn's eyes met the kneeling female's then, and with a detached thought realized she was pretty, with bright turquoise eyes stark against her dark skin and a wide array of colors dancing up her long horns. She wondered what her name was, and if she had family members lying dead with the rest of the clan just beyond that hill.

The female lying beside her grew quiet, but she wasn't dead yet. Severyn could still hear her heartbeat, fading as it lingered in that state of in-between, as it sometimes does.

The female's eyes shot down to Severyn's hands, and back up give her a meaningful look through the agony she was no doubt in. It was that look that told Severyn all she needed to know.

Permission. _Begging_.

She knew what she had to do.

Her eyes left the female's and landed back on the forest fey, still awaiting her answer. She bared her teeth, and with a twist of the wrist using her free hand, she spit, "Fuck you."

Both the males standing behind the jungle fey lit up in flames, and they didn't even have time to scream before they completely disintegrated from the intensity of the flames. Severyn's eyes met the kneeling female's one more time, right in time to see the gratitude lining her features, and the _thank you _she mouthed to her, not giving the remaining male the satisfaction of saying it aloud.

Severyn swallowed, and set them aflame, too.

Their death was the fastest, and as painless as she could manage give them. She was able to witness the peace that overcame the female's face just before the wildfyre took her, and then she was nothing but ash on the wind, along with the other female.

It was just the two of them remaining now, and the male's veined face contorted into a snarl of rage. She prepared herself for a fight- only to freeze at the snap of a twig, coming from the forest behind her.

_Her magic didn't feel anything_, she thought with alarm.

"About time, Ulcerys," The male growled,"the bitch won't cooperate." Severyn snarled, wanting to tear out the bastard's throat, but a second voice stopped her cold.

"Now, Deggon. Does a spider ask the fly to crawl into his pincers?" A smooth voice asked. She tried to turn around, wanting to take in this new threat, but realized with horror that she couldn't move. She managed to shift her head just enough to look down, but saw nothing except a long shadow just barely touching her feet.

Before her magic could react, an iron net was cast over her, suddenly pinning her to the earth and scorching her where it touched. Figures filled the clearing, and she saw with wild eyes that they were men.

_Humans_, her mind hissed.

They carried all manners of iron weapons, from swords to spears and crossbows loaded with iron tipped arrows. Their iron armor clanked as they made a circle around her. Not to protect, of course, but to cage in.

Entrap.

"No," the voice continued, and a pair of well oiled leather boots stopped in front of her face, and Severyn stopped struggling enough to follow the boots with her eyes, taking in the fine dark fabric pants and dark blue and silver lined tunic as they followed up and up until they met a pale face. The man's features were young and beautiful for a human. With a head of black hair framing his face in curls, striking blue eyes peering at her from beneath the dark fringe. He almost looked _joyful _to see her.

He smiled, and white teeth gleamed as he said,"The spider waits patiently, however long it takes until the fly lands right into his web." Severyn snarled at him, canines bared and wings attempting to flare out, her magic struggling with the large amount of iron touching her body.

The man tsked, and kneeled down in front of her, wagging a finger in her face. Severyn wanted to bite it off, and the Severyn-of-now still did.

"I'm Ulcerys, and I am _very _pleased to meet _you_." He seemed to be studying every inch of her, from her face and horns to her black and struggling wings. "Can't say the same for you, _goat fucker_," she hissed.

He reared back, and Severyn braced herself for a blow, only to stare dumbfounded as the man broke into hysterics, his delighted laughter filling the clearing and silencing everything else. It was as if the others were holding their breath, waiting to see what he would do next.

Finally settling down, he hummed, a low baritone, and continued his perusal of her.

"What a beauty you are," he murmured, a pale hand reaching out as if to touch her. "And those eyes! Why, Deggon, you've finally managed to complete the task your Lord has given you!" He clapped cheerfully, and stood back up, now facing the large male who Severyn assumed was Deggon.

Deggon grunted, and cracked his neck. "Wasn't easy finding her, but Azarus tracked her well enough after the first few killings. Also found her lurking in the Shaegon cave. We lured her back out with this killing. Fucking jungle fey," he spit, and Severyn felt her body grow numb with the realization that they'd _known _she was watching them. But how? She was an experienced tracker and hunter. She was also well adept at covering her tracks.

And she'd fallen right into their trap.

Ulcerys hummed again, and looked back down at Severyn. "A shame about Azarus, he was one of our best trackers. No matter. We can make another one," _What_? "The Lord has big plans for you, young one. We've been looking for one of your kind for a very long time," he smiled wide, and Severyn was more confused than ever before.

Since when were the humans working with dark fey? _These_ dark fey in particular?

Did he just call her _young_? He was a human, with a shorter life span in comparison to her immortality.

Except...he wasn't _quite_ human, was he? His scent gave off a type of ambrosia, unusual for a mortal man. His features were also too perfect, like a carefully crafted portrait of a dark prince, with not an imperfection to be seen with her fey sight. There was also something behind his eyes the more she looked at him, just lurking beneath the surface.

Something was off about him.

Ulcerys nodded to himself, and said to no one in particular,"The ritual cannot take place for some time, I'm afraid. But worry not! We have a special place for you to stay until we are ready for you, dearest." With that, he walked off, hands held behind his back as if taking a leisurely stroll, and two armored men took his place. One held a set of manacles, the other a large collar. Both iron.

Her struggles began anew, and the last thing she heard was Ulcerys' voice as he called over his shoulder,"You'll make a fine gift for the queen. Be sure to behave," before a blunt object made impact with the back of her head, her ears ringing and then freedom as she knew it was ripped from her clawed hands.

* * *

The connection was severed, and Severyn and Maleficent found themselves back in the cabin, sweating and panting with the rush of memories and combining of magic.

Maleficent summoned a pitcher of water from the nearby table with a flick of her wrist, and poured Severyn and herself a glass. Severyn took it with a nod of thanks, and finished it before Maleficent could raise hers to her lips, her hand trembling.

The evening light still streamed through the windows, and Severyn realized that no time had passed at all. It felt as if they'd spent hours watching her past play out, yet not a minute had gone by in the real world.

Interesting.

She didn't want to show Maleficent her time with the queen, not yet. That was for another day, when she had the energy, both physically and mentally. Severyn's body was shaking, and she wrapped the green quilt tighter around herself, feeling the stray wisps of hair that escaped from her loose braid sticking to her slick temples.

"That was a lot to take in, I know," Her voice rasped, and Maleficent have a small jump from beside her, obviously still reeling from all that she'd seen,"but it was the only way for you to understand and see. I didn't know how to put it into words."

Maleficent finally turned to look at her, and Severyn could see tears streaming down her distraught face. Her hand squeezed Severyn's, and she realized with a jolt that they still hadn't let go of one another. "I am _so sorry_ for what happened to you, and all those fey that were hunted like _animals_," she bared her teeth at the last part, and Severyn thought she looked beautifully fierce like this, with her tears and fangs and glowing green magic swirling in her eyes.

Severyn gave a short nod of acknowledgment, and whispered,"Have you seen any of them before? Or heard word of any more killings?"

It was silent for a moment, then Maleficent responded just as quietly, "No."

Severyn's eyes closed. Of course not.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know this chapter was longer than the others, but I didn't want to split it.  
Thank you for all the positive feedback! It helps me to know that I'm doing something right. My goal is to post weekly, depending on the plot/scenes and my schedule.  
You may have noticed that I've made some changes, such as the fey having retractable claws. I also tweaked Maleficent's timeline a bit, whereas she lost her parents at only a year old (I red that somewhere), I changed it to about three years after her birth.  
I also have a pronunciation guide for everyone that's appeared so far:  
Severyn: Sev-er-inn  
Mapona: Muh-poh-nuh  
Deidrae: Dee-edd-ray  
Vulken: Vull-ken  
Prythe: Prith  
Deggon: Deg-on  
Ulcerys- Ul-ser-ees  
Shaegon Cave: Shay-gone Cave  
Rontal Clan: Ron-tall Clan


	5. Release

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh man. I've had a hell of a time trying to get this chapter up, let me tell you.
> 
> Firstly, the writing app I'd been using for the first few chapters crashed, and from then on I was unable to get back into it. So I had to start over from scratch, hence the longer wait. The new app I updated works okay, except it's slow as hell when I type and I have to wait for it to catch up. For some reason, there were a few random words that got underlined in the first half, and I tried to get rid of them all, but we'll see. So much frustration going on here.
> 
> But I'm still writing the story! I just wont be able to get the updates out weekly like I'd hoped. Thank you for all the kind words and reviews! They are much appreciated.

* * *

The room was silent except for the sound of a pair of rapid heartbeats and ragged breathing. Eventually, Severyn grew uncomfortable from holding her upright position on the cot for so long, and bent over to rest her elbows on her knees. She looked at her pale feet, only a few inches from touching the ground and counted her toes, over and over until her heart stopped beating so loudly in her ears.

It was best if she showed only those memories for now. Severyn couldn't answer all the questions she would no doubt be barraged with had she shown Maleficent everything. Didn't have the energy. She also didn't trust anyone with the full truth yet, aware that she also had to think about herself and the next step she should take.

Her body felt off, and her magic was still upset at the abrupt cut off from the connection, leaving her a sweating and exhausted mess.

Maleficent was the one to break the silence.

"How did you not know the Dark Island would have been a haven for you? Or any of the other fey, for that matter?" She asked delicately, as if not sure if Severyn was in the right state of mind yet for questions, what with having to re-live those memories.

She huffed, because wasn't _that_ the big question.

Severyn sighed, and thought of how to answer. Maleficent was patient, not willing to push her, and Severyn decided that being blunt was the best way to go about this whole shit show.

"I was too young to find it on my own. The island, I mean," she began, "So I wandered the lands, like you saw. When the Rontal clan found me, and I was coherent again after my settle ended, I asked them why they hadn't tried to find it. They looked at me with the most confused expressions," she gave a humorless laugh, which turned into a coughing fit due to her ravaged throat, and Maleficent poured her another glass of water. Once she drank it and her throat had settled, she continued, "They said the island had been abandoned for thousands of years, and that our ancestors were the last to reside there. Said it was nothing but volcanic ash and rock, now. I asked them how they knew that, and they told me a traveler had come through and had told them about it a few months just before the clan found me. They think he told a lot of fey about it, actually, because no one has tried to find it since."

Maleficent was silent next to her, her brows furrowed deeply and eyes trained on the far wall ahead of her.

Severyn whispered, "The traveler lied. And so many died because they thought they were safe." Maleficent turned her head then, and their gazes met, and Severyn could see her own devastation reflected back at her. Severyn looked back down to her feet.

"Who was the traveler?" She asked then, and Severyn could only shake her head. She wished she knew, but suspected that he was involved somehow with the feral fey.

"Preying on the innocent..." Maleficent seemed to murmur to herself, and Severyn agreed silently.

Maleficent sighed, "This is so much bigger than I'd thought,-", Severyn snorted. What an understatement. "-I need to tell Borra and the elders as soon as possible, but I'd like you to be there with me when I do."

A few beats, then, "Fine. But is this really the Dark Island?"

She didn't dare to hope, but it was the place her clan always talked about, after all. The great ancestral home of the mother Phoenix. She chanced a look up and saw that Maleficent was already looking at her, her eyes warm and giving a small smile.

"It is."

Severyn knew it was likely true, yet those two words surprised her anyways. She never thought she would be free again, and after her clan died she'd never fathomed setting foot inside the one place her clan hoped to one day settle.

"But you need to know, you're not a prisoner here. Once you're healed, you are free to go wherever you wish. Do whatever you want. But what I just saw worries me, and I wonder if for now you should stay with us here, at least until we can find out more about those fey, and that cave. There is safety in numbers, after all."

It was too much, and there was so much going on all at once. Her newfound freedom, the mystery behind those fey and that (human?) man and the squadron of armored men, and discovering that the sacred home of the original Dark Fey was indeed active. Not to mention she was pretty sure her once thought long-dead cousin was sitting _right_ next to her.

Yes, the gods really had it out for her.

It was nice to hear she were a prisoner no longer, though. Severyn's instincts told her that these fey were good, like the Rontal clan had been. To what extent, she wasn't sure, but at least she wouldn't have to defend herself or flee anytime soon. Hopefully.

When she was still in those iron chains, and the days seemed to drag on longer, Severyn would dream of a day where she would break free, and all the places she could go. She used to think that she would get revenge on the humans that enslaved her, and the feral fey who'd put her there. And she could be free always, flying far, far away from that hell and discovering somewhere new to settle down.

Her dream place would have the sun always shining on her to remind her that she was free, and not enclosed in brick and stone and always in darkness. Perhaps a beach, because she loved to swim as a youngling and there weren't a lot of those where her clan traveled.

But things changed, and there was the very real possibility that she would never be safe, not when those monsters were still out there, killing her kind. Severyn could only imagine the horrors they've caused in her ten year confinement.

Her original plan had been to heal and get strong enough to fly and fight again, then leave. But with everything that was said, and with what she'd seen Maleficent just now, she saw those plans getting smaller and smaller, till there was eventually nothing left.

Maybe Maleficent was right, because there _are_ safety in numbers. But only if the clan was large and powerful enough...

Severyn's brows furrowed, and inquired, "You said safety in numbers. How many make up your clan? Are they powerful enough to hold off an attack?" She hadn't even thought to ask, her mind too frazzled and caught up in everything else. Not to mention the feeling of pins and needles starting to appear along her limbs, crawling up towards her chest. Her magic was starting to fight her for release now that it's had its taste of freedom.

"We actually aren't one clan. I'm sorry, I should have elaborated on that from the beginning. All of the origin clans are based here. Tundra, Jungle, Desert, Forest. Each with their own clan leaders, all following two leaders, Borra and myself. Together, we are one people. And the Dark Island has been impenetrable since it was created, not to mention extremely difficult to find." Maleficent looked sheepish as she explained this, and Severyn almost laughed at how out of place the expression looked on her face.

_All the clans together_, her mind repeated. But the way she made it sound...

"How many fey live here exactly?" Severyn asked, and Maleficent paused.

There was another beat of silence. And then, "Just over a thousand."

Severyn choked, her body jerking and back shooting ramrod straight, body and wings protesting at the sudden movement. Hissing through her teeth, she ignored Maleficent's outreached hands, attempting to help, and gritted, "what?! That many? How?"

How was that possible? She couldn't even fathom a hundred, let alone a _thousand_. Their kind is dying out, it's true, but how could this many be so successful in staying hidden away from the world for this long?

Maleficent shifted, her leg crossing over the other, and rested her hands on her knee. "I was just as shocked as you are, believe me. There were a lot more of them, but the number of casualties in the battle were great. Up until a week ago I thought I was the only one of my kind. I grew up in The Moors-" oh, shit. Well, there was Severyn's confirmation that they're related, "-and never even knew that this place existed.

But they've been thriving all this time, sequestered away in this hidden world to preserve our species. We thought that with the war with the humans ending, we could finally move away from here and make a new life out in the open. But after what I just saw...I don't think that's possible anymore." She slumped a bit, and it bothered Severyn to see this strong female looking so defeated. It was wrong.

And the thought of these dark fey living here _all this time_. Well. She had a lot to process when this conversation was over, and she could already feel a headache forming, the throbbing in her temples increasing by the minute. She felt ill.

Severyn so badly wanted to tell her in that moment. Tell her what they really were to each other, and that she still has family left in this world, but in the end she kept quiet, her gut telling her that this wasn't the moment, yet.

"If you've only known of these people for a week, then how are you their leader?" She asked, confused and struggling to think over the pounding in her head.

Maleficent gave a soft smile, eyes on her hands, which were now twiddling with the fabric of her dress robes, "I'm a direct descendant of the Phoenix herself, and so my bloodline is the most powerful, therefore making me more powerful than the other fey. I can protect these people, and they know it. It wasn't my idea nor intention, and it was the last thing I wanted, seeing as I'm also the guardian to The Moors and the fairies that live there. But they need me, and I refused to turn them away. How could I?"

The Phoenix herself, was it? Severyn would have to ruminate about that one later.

She turned her body to face Severyn then, and she looked so _sincere_ in that moment when she said, "Besides, since I've become their leader and an official member of the Island, I feel different, in a good way. Lighter, happier, and _freer_ like I was always meant to be. It feels right, like I've finally come home." She finished the last part in a whisper.

Severyn's eyes burned at that, and she had to look away. Maybe it wouldn't be so bad to think about staying, after all. It was a nice thought, coming home, but she knew the world didn't always work that way.

_But she wished it did._

She cleared her throat, "So," she began, "does this place really have enough space for a thousand fey? What about the sun? Is everyone here just as pale as we are because we're sitting inside a dark rock?" At least she could make light of the situation. If she didn't, she was afraid she would have a breakdown, and the last thing she needed was to embarrass herself further. It was bad enough that she was as weak as she is now.

Maleficent just smiled at her, and Severyn thought she looked a little like her own mother in that moment, with the way her eyes crinkled a little at the corners and the curl of her lips_. My cousin_, her heart sang.

"Find out for yourself," she nodded towards the door, and Severyn almost smiled at the cheekiness she heard in those words, the open invitation.

"What season is it? I've tried to keep track of the years, but I don't remember what time of the year it is." She supposed it didn't matter, considering the stories she'd heard of the Dark Island being enchanted by the Mother Phoenix herself and the combined magic of the fey, allowing for the appropriate temperatures needed for the different environments, but did that mean they also had their own sunlight?

Severyn longed to feel the sun on her face and wings again.

"Fall has just begun, but it won't effect us here. Not unless you're in the outside world." Maleficent replied, and Severyn nodded wordlessly. She shifted uncomfortably, feeling the sudden need to get up and move, injuries or no. She began looking around then, looking for something with a reflection after the sudden realization that she hadn't seen herself in ten years.

She could imagine how she looked now compared to when she was healthy and strong. She felt clammy and feverish, strands of dark hair still stuck annoyingly to her temples and cheeks. Every time she breathed she could feel the uncomfortable sensation of her ribs pushing at the bottom edges of the wrappings around her breasts.

"What do you need?" Maleficent asked her, noticing her eyes scanning the room, searching for something.

"A mirror or something to see myself," she huffed, "I don't even know what I look like right now." Irritated, Severyn leant back from her upright position, and Maleficent got up without a word and headed for the wall nearby. She watched curiously as the female lifted a finger, and a large wood-framed mirror appeared, hanging from a new hook in the wall. She then reached out and plucked the walking stick Severyn attempted to use earlier, lying against the wall by the mirror, and made her way back to the cot. Once standing in front of Severyn, she handed it over, and Severyn accepted it silently, a shaky hand wrapping around the polished wood.

"Deidrae said this is to aide you until you can move around on your own again. It helps, I have one of my own for when I need it." She explained, an expectant brow raised. Severyn nodded again for what felt like the thousandth time, and shifted her wings and body, preparing herself to rise. Maleficent took a step back, allowing her independence to get up, and she felt a rush of gratitude towards her.

Severyn braced both hands on the staff, and with a shaky breath, she stood up. Her legs shook as she leaned heavily against it, trying to adjust to the heavy weight of her wings pulling her back, and the wave of dizziness that washed over her as soon as she did so. Once it passed, Severyn took a hesitant step forward, and once she realized she wouldn't fall back on her ass, she used the walking stick to slowly move towards the mirror a few feet away.

She was _walking. _She couldn't believe it, and croaked aloud, "I haven't walked this much in _years_. Everything is so sore." Maleficent was just a few steps behind her, giving Severyn space to move, and answered, "I can imagine, given the condition we found you in. Careful, now."

She was a steady presence at her back, and stopped a few steps away as Severyn finally made it to the mirror face, sweat rolling down her neck and back with the effort made, and was taken aback at the stranger in the mirror.

Not a stranger. A _waif_.

She looked like something out of a nightmare. Gone was the tanned skin from time spent flying in the sun, replaced by a ghostly, almost translucent pallor, and as Severyn looked closer, she could make out the faint blue veins running over her jutting collarbones and all the way up to her temples. She took in the thick rope of long hair braided away from her thin face, tiny wisps of dark curls sticking out in places. It was darker than she'd ever seen it, the undertones of dark red and gold having faded from her time spent in darkness. It was a shade darker than Maleficent's own chocolate locks, and Severyn saw the proof written plain on her face that she'd been trapped away for so long.

Everything was either jutting out or sinking in, from the sunken dark circles under her green eyes to her hollow cheeks, making her cheekbones look severe and sharper than they would be if she were a normal weight. Her jawline looked cutting, and Severyn's eyes travelled lower, and she noted that she could count every single rib as she breathed in.

Her eyes jumped back to her face, and Severyn stared at herself for another long moment. So this was her price for not being careful enough, and not being smarter than the enemy. She glanced at the wings at her back, and the shining black feathers. The sharp talons. At least she still had these.

The others weren't so lucky.

She could cry, or rage at anything and everything because of what she saw in the mirror. Pity herself for all that she'd been through and the amount of healing she'd have to endure. There were so many ways she could go about this, she thought. But then she reminded herself of the fey that hadn't been so lucky as her, whereas Severyn had been found and rescued, those dark fey had been betrayed and brutally killed by their own kind.

So she would be stronger, and she would get better.

And somehow, someway, she will make sure they're _avenged_.

Severyn tsked. "I look like shit," she muttered, and Maleficent gave a startled laugh, having not expected her reaction to her sickly appearance. Severyn smirked and met Maleficent's eyes over her shoulder, still looking through the mirror.

Her magic pulsed angrily as soon as their gazes met, and Severyn felt more than saw her own eyes glow a bright green.

Severyn doubled over, suddenly overcome with the _worst_ feeling of her magic reserves filling her so full that it was as if she were about to explode with it. She'd ignored its need for release and her body's warning signals for too long. Seeing as it was too late to slowly trickle it bit by bit out of her system, Severyn concluded that her magic wanted out _now, _uncaring if it destroyed the cabin she was currently standing in.

Ignoring Maleficent's concerned questions, Severyn used the walking stick to clumsily stumble towards the door while she grit out, "I need outside, my magic's going to _explode_. It's fire magic. Need a clearing, safe from people." Her body felt alight with a burning fever again, and every nerve felt overly sensitive, just walking over the wood boards of the floor hurt her feet. She wasn't even halfway to the door when she felt a pair of soft hands wrap around her waist and arm, the strength in them surprising her as she and Maleficent hurried to the exit.

Once they reached the door, Maleficent opened it with a slam using her magic, causing the figures outside to jump and whirl around towards them. Borra and Diaval stood quickly from their seat on a nearby wood bench, taking in the obviously distressed females hovering in the doorway, Severyn now leaning heavily into Maleficent, a panting and sweaty mess.

Suddenly, Severyn jolted, dropping her walking stick and groaning, causing Maleficent to stumble a little with the unexpected added weight.

"She's ten years of magic that demands to be released _right this minute,_ or this place will go up in flames." Maleficent hurriedly explained, and both males jumped into action.

Borra raced three long strides, leaping over the stairs of the cabin to land heavily on Severyn's other side, and reached a large arm around her slight frame to help ease the burden of her weight. Diaval quickly made his way to Maleficent's side, casting the sick female a worried glance and snapping to attention when Maleficent looked to him.

"Fly to Mapona's, tell her to alert the others of a great amount of magic about to be released, and not to be alarmed. I'll contain it," she murmured, and with a quick nod, he shifted into his raven form and was off.

Severyn's heart was pounding loudly in her ears and throughout her entire body, her headache worsening by the second. She was sure the fey standing on either side of her could feel her body rocking with the force of it. The male who'd suddenly appeared at her side gripped her a little tighter, his large hand settled against the skin of her bare waist, arm brushing her back just under her wings. She tried to ignore the sting of her injured hip pressed against his, and was overcome with the sudden strange scent of citrus. She glanced at him through bleary eyes, and took in the face-now clear of war paint-of the fey male from before. _Borra_.

Light bronze eyes met glowing green, and he inclined his head a little and rumbled, "Hello, again."

Severyn snorted a little, her nose scrunching up at the pain in her body and the irony of this entire situation, because_ of course_ this male is going to attempt to lug her around again. "Hello, Borra."

He looked surprised for a brief moment, his horned head leaning back a little, before he quickly recovered. His eyes gained a mischievous gleam, and over her head, he looked to Maleficent, "You've been talking about me, then? Always knew I was a hot topic."

Maleficent rolled her eyes and scoffed, already put out with the hulking male. "_Honestly_. Let's get her to a clearing so she can release her magic, I'm worried about how this will affect your body," she said the last part to Severyn. Severyn just grunted. Slowly, they began to carefully guide her down the porch steps, Borra now bearing most of Severyn's weight, although it didn't seem to be any burden for him. Once they'd reached the bottom, Severyn's feet finally touched the soft ground, and she looked down at her wriggling toes.

"Grass," she mumbled, awed and dazed. How long had it been since she'd felt grass as soft as this?

Maleficent huffed, "Yes, grass. You can rediscover the wonders of it once we get you somewhere safe so you empty your extra _reserves-_" She grunted the last word, as she suddenly dipped when Severyn collapsed. But Severyn was saved from hitting the ground when Borra quickly corrected her with his arm tightening around her waist, his fingertips digging into her skin and bringing her back up and against his side this time.

"I know somewhere up ahead, through the trees by the river. There's privacy and she can safely expel her magic," Borra said, and in wordless agreement they began hauling Severyn in the direction of the trees, towards the path opened amongst them.

Severyn held on to her magic as long as she could, trying desperately to keep it reined in, but she couldn't prevent a tendril from escaping, an angry stream of green fire which she hurriedly directed towards the sky. "Fuck," she hissed.

"She's not going to make it!" Maleficent snapped, and Severyn dazedly wondered if perhaps her magic had the potential to burn the whole forest down, maybe even the entire vicinity if she let it.

_I don't want to destroy this place. Not when I just got here_, she thought.

But it would feel _good_, if only to let loose some of this magic raging inside of her.

Her mind was a haze of jumbled thoughts, yet all she knew was that she had to contain whatever she held inside just long enough to get to their destination. But Severyn worried that her time had run out, as she felt more fire tendrils struggling to escape from her grasp.

From beside her, Borra cursed, then muttered, "Hang on." Before she could process what he meant, she felt his grip tighten around her waist, just as his other arm sneaked under her thighs to hoist her into the air, bringing her body against his chest in one smooth motion as he broke into a run, all without breaking stride.

"I can't fly us, the path's too narrow, but we're almost there," was all he said.

She didn't even voice complaint or objection, knowing she needed the help. So instead, she decided to put trust into these two fey to help her. Severyn felt the muscles of Borra's chest and arms shift with each long stride he took, taking care not to jostle her too much, and she was grateful to him for it. Her body ached and her hip screamed with the movements, but she ignored it in favor of focusing all her efforts on containing whatever was about to escape. Distantly, she could hear the soft footsteps of Maleficent running just a few paces behind them, but she couldn't look to see her due to Borra's large wings blocking her view. So instead, she settled for tilting her head up, watching the warm toned leaves of the forest trees overhead as they passed by, becoming a blur of orange, brown, and reds.

"Hang on, we're almost there," Borra muttered, and Severyn tried to respond, but another grunt came out instead. He sped up his pace, and started to sprint.

She looked and looked, but she couldn't do anything to stop her vision from gaining white spots, and within a few seconds she couldn't see anything at all. Panic overtook her then, and she gasped out, "I can't see."

"_What_ did she just say?" Maleficent's tone was sharp from behind them, as if Borra had something to do with Severyn's sudden lack of sight, and he quickly responded, "It's just her magic warring with her body. It happens to some fey who have burn outs or too much magic in their systems. It's temporary, and she'll see again once she releases it."

Severn was relieved to hear it, but she still couldn't tamper down the panic that remained at not being able to see anything at all. Her other senses sharpened in response to the sudden loss of sight, and suddenly the smell of the forest, full of plants and creatures alive with magic, and the scent of the male that held her in his grasp came into focus. He smelled of leather still, tangled with the citrus she'd scented on him earlier. It wasn't unpleasant, per say, just unusual. Different. Severyn could feel a strand of his long hair brush against her cheek, her head pressed against his bare chest, and she realized she hadn't been this close to a fey male in a long time.

_Not since the Rontal Clan_, she thought, but quickly blew those thoughts away like smoke. Of of all times to be thinking of it.

The burning and too-full feeling only increased, coming from this thing come alive inside of her. She reached a shaking hand up to feel for where Borra's shoulder was, and gripped tightly there, her nails digging into his warm skin. He didn't complain, as if he knew she needed something to anchor herself to remain there with them, and not lose herself to the deep well of power threatening to break. The world was white all around her, overwhelming in its brightness, so Severyn shut her eyes against it, encasing herself in the dark once more. Borra's racing heartbeat was loud against her ear, the force of it reverberating through her, and she used the beats as a distraction from the losing battle with her magic.

_Thud-thud, thud-thud, thud-thud, thud-thud_.

After what could have been seconds or minutes, so lost in the counting Severyn was, did Borra slow to a brisk walk with her still in his arms. She could hear a running river nearby, and scented the cool water racing around the stones no doubt dissecting its path. Borra came to a stop, but he didn't set her down. Her eyes remained closed, blocking out the light burning through her eyelids, and she jumped when she felt a gentle hand settle on her arm.

"Set her here, Borra." Despite the worry and panic she must have no doubt been feeling, Maleficent's voice was calm. Borra briefly tightened his hold on Severyn, as if he were about to refuse her, but after a moment he gently lowered her to the ground, making sure Severyn was solidly kneeling before disentangling himself from her. Severyn let go of the hold she had on him in favor of gripping the grass, anchoring herself to the earth and hunching over herself, baring her back to the fey and giving them a clear view of the tattoos there.

She moaned at the pain of holding her magic in for so long, at the unnaturalness of it. Suddenly, hands were on her from both sides, and she had to keep herself from lashing out instinctively. Vulnerable, she was too vulnerable here. She couldn't see a damned thing and she had to remind herself who it was that was here with her. The hands gently untangled both of her hands from the tall grass and guided her arms up, so that she was reaching above her head for the heavens, palms facing upwards. The other set of hands, these larger and calloused, helped to balance her by the shoulder until she adjusted to the weight of her wings, and guide her head up until her face was towards the cavern sky, as well. Both fey's were a solid weight on either side of her, and she could have leaned into either one of them if she wished it.

"You can let go now, it's safe to do so," Maleficent murmured. Severyn grit her teeth, and shook her head resolutely.

"I can't," she gritted, "I'll burn you. I'll burn everything." Some of her desperation must have leaked through, because the large hand on her shoulder squeezed, and she thought she would give just about anything to see again.

"You _can_. I can contain it, whatever it is, just _let go_." At those words, Severyn felt as if her body would burst right at that moment, and she tried to swallow the pained groans trying to escape her aching throat. Her arms shook with the effort of keeping still, and she hurriedly breathed, "Get back, _get back_."

She felt the figures at her side disappear, and she couldn't pause to wonder if they were back far enough before she opened the floodgates and her magic was unleashed.

It was cataclysmic, the sudden wave of power that filled the area, the entire island. The trees blew violently with it, and the roaring in her ears drowned out the actual roar she unleashed with the effort it took of directing it all into the sky above them. Wisps of unchecked magic leaked from her eyes and mouth, leaked from what felt like every pore in her body, green in its rage from being locked away for so long.

Large jets of green wildfyre streamed from her palms, turning wild once it broke the tree line and threatened to consume anything in its path. Gods, she couldn't see, _couldn't see_ the damage it was no doubt inflicting on everything around her. She could picture in her mind how the forest plants and animals were no doubt ash now, and wondered if the fey that were next to her were ash long before that. She couldn't control it anymore, she _had_ to let go. She wondered if the dark fey nearby would soon cease to exist, too. She was probably kneeling in nothing but a black, charred clearing now, alone with this gift of hell.

_Killer_, her mind whispered, _blood letter_.

She still couldn't see a thing, yet she kept her eyes open anyways. The roaring in her ears died down some, and it was then that she could make out a voice yelling, "Keep it going! I've got it under control, just keep releasing it!"

Severyn choked on a sob, shock and relief taking over her body at hearing Maleficent's voice, giving away the fact that she was still here, and _alive_. How was that possible? Severyn had never met another being, besides her mother, who could match her own magic. And even then her mother had struggled, claiming to never see fire like Severyn's when she would sometimes lose control as a youngling.

Perhaps it it was because Maleficent truly was the blood of her blood, a true testament of her own power.

Severyn's breathing began to labor, and she wondered when it would end. Her body ached from holding her position for so long, but she didn't dare move an inch of fear of losing control. The burning in her body began to fade away, leaving room for the icy sensation she'd felt earlier to take residence. Her wings drooped behind her in exhaustion.

It went on like this for what felt like tens of minutes, until the most welcome of senses returned. Her sight. Severyn began to make out the shapes of the trees above them, singed away to make a ring from where her magic burned through. She didn't dare look away from where she focused the raw power, but felt a great relief when colors suddenly burst in her vision, mainly in shades of green from both her fire and the forest around her. She felt in control now, and no longer in danger of burning everything around her.

Ten years of pent up magic, released here in this enclosed forest. But it felt _good_. Her magic felt so pleased, free and wild from the confines of her own body. A pleasureful curl of shivers traveled down her spine, no longer the stabbing sensation from before, and she shuddered.

Severyn felt the reserves of magic in her body start to wane, and figured that it would take a few more moments till it would be safe for her to cut it off.

When her reserves finally emptied to less than half, she carefully slowed the blast of magic to a steady stream, not stopping until it fizzled out to smoke. It was dead silent, save for Severyn's heavy breathing, and she deemed it safe enough to lower her sore arms to her sides. Dreading what she'd see around her, Severyn lowered her head to take in her surroundings.

Instead of the charred wasteland she'd been expecting, Severyn was instead met with a small river just feet in front of her, the water clean and flowing with no disruption, as if nothing had happened at all. Her throat went dry at the sight of it, not realizing until now just how thirsty she'd become.

"You know, I'd heard of this sort of thing before, but I'd never seen it happen." At the sound of Maleficent's voice, Severyn's head snapped to where she was standing nearby, looking amazingy unbothered by what had just occurred. As soon as her eyes met Maleficent's, her magic gave a rumbling purr from within, and Severyn rolled her neck, cracking and loosening the joints there. Maleficent's eyes widened, and for a brief moment, she looked like a deer caught in a trap. Alert and wary. The female immediately schooled her expression back into a mask of calm, like it'd never changed to begin with.

Severyn opened her mouth to respond, but a rasping cough overtook her suddenly, and Maleficent's calm face shifted to one of concern when it didn't stop. Before anyone else could move, Severyn found herself crawling weakly to the river's edge, desperate for anything cool to soothe her damaged throat. Once she reached the edge, she dunked her trembling hands into the surface of the water, and almost sighed aloud when she found the water to be cool and clean. Clear and _beautiful_ water. Her magic didn't warn her as she did so, and she knew it to be safe to drink.

Severyn raised her cupped hands to her lips, and drank greedily. Unsatisfied with just the one handful, she repeated the process over and over again, seeming to never get enough of it and at the same time allowing her enough time to think.

There was a plethora of thoughts running through her head, and most of them revolving around Maleficent. She knew she had to say something, and it would only be worse the longer she waited. Maleficent's success in safely containing Severyn's magic and wildfyre only confirmed it. Just as she was in the midst of finishing her last handful of water, a voice suddenly cut in from her right, "Phoenix tits, have you even taken a breath?"

Severyn promptly choked, eyes wide, water spilling out of her mouth and all over her front, caught off guard and surprised at the sound of Borra's voice. Her head whipped to the side, and she scowled to see him standing right beside her, hand on a hip and looking down at her with amusement. "Sorry," He said, not sounding apologetic in the slightest.

She'd forgotten about him.

Severyn wiped her mouth with the back of her hand, and glared. His lips twitched, and she wondered what he'd do if she shoved him into the river. But before she could act on it, Maleficent's smooth voice cut through, obviously sensing Severyn's annoyance and Borra's penchant for antagonizing anything that walked by.

"The others are aware of what happened, but I'm sure they'll have questions once we head back." She walked towards them then, her steps graceful and sure, her brown robes trailing behind her in the soft grass.

With each step she took towards her, Severyn felt her heart beating harder and harder, this thing inside her suddenly welling up and threatening to spill out. Severyn was still kneeling in the grass, her bare legs peeking through the slits of her skirt, and she shivered at the sudden chill that overtook her. Maleficent came to a stop right before her, and her brows furrowed when she caught the movement, but before she could inquire about it, Severyn felt that thing inside her crawl up her chest, slither through her throat and make its way out into the open.

And before she could stop herself, she blurted out, "I think we might be cousins," and immediately winced.

Maleficent froze, her eyes going impossibly wide, and she gaped at Severyn, who felt herself turning a brilliant shade of red from head to chest. Fuck. That was _not_ how she wanted to start this. From beside her, Borra made a choking noise, and Severyn and Maleficent's eyes shot to his silently shaking figure. Before Severyn could wonder if he was dying and if she really should push him into the river like she'd wanted to, Borra suddenly burst into loud laughter, no longer able to smother it. His horned head was thrown back, shoulders and chest heaving with the force of it, and barely managed to gasp out, "Sky's above, that makes _so much sense_."

Severyn's brow twitched, and she suddenly wished she had her walking staff with her so she could whack him behind the knee. Maleficent ignored him completely in favor of staring at Severyn like she'd just sawed off her horns. After another minute of this, Borra's laughter died down slowly, and he quickly glanced back and forth between the two females, and then again. He nodded, as if deciding something.

"You two do look like sisters, I don't know how we didn't see it sooner. Do you have proof, little fire bird?" His bronze eyes shifted to Severyn's, and she rankled at the nickname. Maleficent was still silent, staring at her as if she just revealed ground shaking news.

Well, she guessed she did.

Severyn scowled at him, "Don't call me that. I have a name, _shithead_." Instead of looking offended or ruffled, Borra gave her a slow smirk, eyes alight and looking for all the world like he'd found a new challenge. Severyn internally groaned. She hadn't even been around the male for a whole day, yet she could tell that he was a smartass. A _flirtatious_ smartass, at that.

He smirked wider, his large wings shifting, "Well, that's just not fair. I don't even know your name, yet you know mine and you're not even using it."

She scoffed, disregarding him completely and turning back to Maleficent, who was now watching them with a curious look on her face. Feeling Severyn's eyes on her, Maleficent directed her gaze back to her, and Severyn swallowed.

"Your mother's name was Hermia, wasn't it?" Severyn's voice was a soft rasp. "She was my mother's older sister. You look just like her."

Maleficent reeled back in shock, her face paler than it was a few moments ago, and Severyn wished in that moment that they could have done this differently. A moment of silence came over them, even Borra was quiet beside them. She didn't look at him, as her eyes were only for the female before her. Her cousin.

She continued, "Your father's name was Lysander, and he loved your mother more than anything. He loved you even more. My mother visited them once, right after you were born. She showed me those memories when I was young, of meeting you for the first time. I never got the chance to meet them, or you, but by then it was too late. We thought you were dead, killed alongside your parents."

She stopped there, unsure if she should say more, and decided to wait for a reaction. Severyn was surprised when Maleficent took a step closer, only to fall onto her knees before her with a look of pure disbelief and devastation on her pointed features. Her brown robes pooled around her, and she raised a pale hand up to Severyn's face. Severyn tried not to wince or lean away, keeping herself still as Maleficent's hand neared, and she swiped a gentle thumb under Severyn's eye socket.

"That's why you have my eyes," she whispered. Severyn nodded.

"And magic like my own."

Another nod, and then, "A family trait. Only passed onto the female's."

Maleficent hummed in a low tone, then continued her examination of her, fingers tracing Severyn's own sharpened features, made even more severe from her time in captivity. Her fingertips trailed from her high cheekbones and down her hollowed cheeks, along her sharp jaw and stopping right above the still fresh and angry scar circling Severyn's neck. She hesitated, and Severyn held her breath, only to release it when Maleficent brought her hand back up to drift lightly over her dark eyebrows, slightly fuller and more arched than Maleficent's own. Severyn let her continue her silent assessment, sensing that Maleficent needed this, as if it would help her to confirm what Severyn knew to be true.

When she was done, Maleficent lowered her hands to her lap. Lips parted, she looked into the distance, lost in her own thoughts. It was Severyn's turn to wait patiently.

"All this time. I had a living relative and I didn't even know it," Maleficent murmured, and her green eyes drifted from that spot in the distance back to Severyn's.

Her her heart gave a jolt. "You believe me?"

Maleficent gave a small, sad smile, "Don't you feel it? Our magic? Almost like it was trying to tell us this entire time... It makes sense."

Yes, Severyn supposed that was true. She should have known from the beginning, why her magic seemed to call out in Maleficent's presence. Felt the pull. Familiarity was there, even if they didn't know it at the time. But she'd ignored it.

Severyn nodded wordlessly.

Maleficent seemed to to think for a moment, before asking, "You've been alone a long time, haven't you?" Severyn heard Borra, who'd been silent this whole time, shift from beside them both.

She swallowed down the lump in her throat. "Yes." She rasped.

Maleficent nodded, as if confirming something, and moved to stand. She rose gracefully, and reached out a hand to her. Severyn took it without hesitation.

Once standing (hunching pitifully, she was aching, and _tired_), movement to her side brought attention to Borra, uncharacteristically solemn (for the maybe two hours she'd known him), moved till he was standing right beside her. Severyn had to look up to meet his eyes, which were focused intently on her own, his large body radiating warmth and making Severyn long for the green quilt she left back at Deidrae's cabin.

His voice, usually orotund and deep every time she'd heard it, was kind when he said, "I know you've been through all the hells of this world, and that a lot has happened since you were set free. You haven't even had the chance to meet our people or see our world for yourself, but know this: You have a place here, little fire bird. You don't have to decide today, or even years from now," he raised a muscled arm out, an offering of both assistance for the long walk back, and of fellowship. Her eyes stayed on it, and chose to ignore the name. "We take care of our own, always. The choice is yours in the end," he finished. Maleficent was silent as she watched the exchange, her face an unreadable mask.

Those words stood out the most to Severyn. _Free. Always. Choice_. She looked at the extended arm he held out, and thought of the lengths they'd gone to so far, all to help her. They hadn't asked anything of her, hadn't even treated her with suspicion or malice. In all her time staying here, Severyn had been held and treated with a gentle touch and kind hands, and her questions answered honestly when asked. And she had found a living cousin.

Maybe she didn't have to be alone, at least for now.

So instead of answering him outright, Severyn just shuffled sideways until she was pressed against Borra's side like before, except this time her uninjured hip was pressing into his. Wordlessly, his arm wound around her back, his large hand settling on her waist, careful not to touch her injured hip. Once he was certain she was secured and ready to move, they began the long trek back to the Healer's Den, Maleficent already a few steps ahead.

It it was as if they knew without asking that she wanted to walk rather than be carried. An unbidden smile came to her lips then.

"Severyn," she said suddenly, and she saw from her peripheral Borra's head turn to look at her. "My name is Severyn."

Borra faced forward again, but not before she caught a glimpse of his smile. He huffed a laugh through his nose. "Well, Severyn. I'm pretty sure you've managed to scare the shit out of the clan leaders and their advisors just now. Not that I'm complaining, they need to be knocked off of a cliff. Or five."

Up ahead, she thought she heard Maleficent chuckling, and gave a small smile of her own. She was beat to hell, aches and pains riddling her body, and her hip screamed with every step she took. Hells, she couldn't even lift her wings, heavy as they were, and they drooped sadly from her thin form as they walked. But for the first time in years, maybe since her family was still alive, she felt hopeful.

She tried to ignore how she liked the way her name sounded coming from Borra's lips.

**Author's Note:**

> This is a continuation after the events of Maleficent: Mistress of Evil, and I'm expanding the world further, with new characters and enemies. I'm making it up as I go, so if it receives enough feedback I will see it through to the end. This is my first fanfic ever, so I'm just having fun with it.


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